


Halfway Home

by Tavalah



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe KNOWS, Ella Knows, Identity Reveal, Mild Sexual Content, Some bad language, dan knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:19:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 56,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tavalah/pseuds/Tavalah
Summary: My take on the revelatory moment after "A Devil of My Word" (everyone's got one!)-- hoping to lead this into an original idea I have.  I guess I should officially call this an AU since S4 is out, and though I haven't seen it yet, I'm sure they aren't writing it like my story!***Thank you all for your help! I think I have the formatting worked out. Lucifans are the BEST!***And yes, now I've seen Season 4, and it was awesome!  Definitely not what I was expecting! Sooo hate that they're saying Season 5 is the final.  That is NOT the writers/cast's decision, by the way. It was Netflix.





	1. Burning Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was going through their minds in that last moment of "A Devil of My Word?" And how would it play out if they had to escape, together?

_Deep down, you know you’re a monster…_

Even as Lucifer spoke the words that he meant with all his being to drive Cain’s soul into hell, he felt the echo in his own. How could he have not known?

He heard her light steps behind him. Chloe spoke his name with urgency and relief. “Lucifer…” As he rose and turned slowly, all he could feel was an answering relief that she was there, alive.

But then he saw the truth in her terrified eyes, and his eternal world crumbled.

“Detective?” he said, softly. How could he have not known?

_“I don’t see you that way,” she’d said. And he had answered from some place in his heart where the Lightbringer still lived, “Lately I’m not sure I do either.”_

Had he convinced himself so completely that he could sever half of himself away, the darkest part of him, instead of his wings? So completely that he would not even feel the burn of hellfire that stole his archangel demeanor?

He knew, in that instant, she would never speak his name with that soft care again.  The man she cared for was a wounded creature, driven to eccentric delusion by an abusive father, and she had cared in spite of his many flaws. The man she’d known, perhaps could have loved, only lived in her eyes.

And now he was gone.

In his place stood an inhuman nightmare, a murderer, who had just risen from the body of a man she almost married.

“It’s all true… It’s all true…” she whispered, stricken, eyes wide with terror. And she was slowly backing away from him.

_That one last chance he’d had, to stop her from running to the arms of the world’s first murderer, he couldn’t speak the words. “Who does deserve me?” She had pleaded, tears bright in her beautiful eyes.  All she needed was for him to answer her, and he knew, he knew, she wanted his love._

_Cain was the world’s first murderer, but he… he was the Devil. How could he pretend to be better?_

_He couldn’t lie.  He couldn’t pretend. But maybe… he could_ be _better._

Was it too late now?

Lucifer had fallen into a trap of his own making. He had killed a human.  A horrid, cursed, heartless and deceptive man who had left a trail of destruction and death across eons.  But the sin Lucifer truly sent him to hell for had nothing to do with Charlotte’s death.  Charlotte was in Heaven. The sin Lucifer found unforgivable was that he had callously broken Chloe’s heart, and then tried to kill her.  That was the real reason he had so joyfully crushed Cain’s hand and drove Maze’s blade into _his_ heart.

_And I would do it again. In a bloody second._

This wasn’t helping. His original form was not returning. Almost automatically, he looked to the sky, to his Father, wondering if the punishment he had incurred was to be stuck in his Devil form forever.  He _had_ killed a human.

Once before, he had prayed for her life, when Malcolm’s bullet took him down and left her undefended.  Now he prayed to preserve her sanity.

“Dad, please… for her sake…don’t do this.”

Was that a shiver of Light he felt in his soul? Forgiveness? Or just a soft touch of a breeze through the window he’d crashed through? He dared to hope that this was only _his_ battle with himself, not his Father’s judgment. He had to get himself under control, chase back the mask of Hellfire and hatred that was causing his dear detective so much anguish.

He raised his burned hands to his face.

***

“Maybe I’ve been avoiding the biggest truth this whole…” she’d said, and then…

Chloe had practically sprinted down the stairs when she heard the gunshots. _If he’s dead, I will never forgive myself.  Why did I say that? “We have to find Pierce.” I know him, I knew he’d charge back into the fray. I’m such an idiot. I sent him back alone._

Part of her mind was working furiously, putting together the pieces, but she was still fighting it.  Even though she’d been knocked unconscious, she had been fading in and out, and through the blackness she had flickers of sensations, sounds… Had she really heard Cain’s men unloading their guns on them?  Lucifer crying out in pain?

 _How did he get me to the roof safely, so fast?_ Then she’d heard the soft snap of unfurled wings, seen the bloodied feathers in the netting when she turned to look and Lucifer was gone. She could kick herself for being the world’s worst detective later, but now she couldn’t deny what she had refused to see for so long. 

It was a long way down, and by the time she got to the last landing, her mind was swinging like Trixie on the playground, _Lucifer is the Devil, he’s always said he was, this can’t be, there must be some other explanation … Lucifer is the Devil. No way! No way! No, no, nonono…_

The last piece fell into place -- the shattered windows.  It looked like a wrecking ball had blown through. _He did that.  My wild, winged partner did that. Lucifer, the fallen archangel – the Devil._

 _She remembered his gentle voice, his dark eyes so soulful, it seemed only the night before. “Chloe, I_ am _the Devil.” And still she hadn’t believed.  “Not to me,” she’d said. And then his soft lips as they kissed, and her heart flared like newborn stars._

Did she really kiss _the Devil?_ Did she still feel the same for him? How could this be real? There was so much to process.  Heaven, Hell, God… His father?  The abusive monster she’d secretly hated, was _God_? But she’d always blamed his father for the scars on his back _. “No, that’s where I cut my wings off. Well, Maze did.  I told her to.”_ Lucifer never lied. His father hadn’t done that to him, he had done it to himself. What could drive him to mutilate himself that way?

It came back to her, that time at the precinct he had shouted that he couldn’t sleep and she had taken him aside, into a conference room. Poor Lucifer, so desperate to warn her of the cliff that she was running over, his eyes red rimmed, dark hair mussed, pocket kerchief askew. He was completely undone and he was still so heart-wrenchingly gorgeous to her. But she couldn’t take the back and forth anymore, his secrets that he spoke out loud for all to hear. In all honesty, she couldn’t blame him for her choice not to hear him. 

 _“My wings… they’re back…”_ In the rush of all the other insanity he was spewing, what she thought of as his “Luciferness,” _oh my God Pierce is Cain_ she’d dismissed it. She hadn’t believed him. The look in his eyes when she’d nearly told him she loved Marcus… _Marcus, Cain, the world’s first murderer…_

There was no denying that she had ripped out Lucifer’s heart.

But she was running down the last landing, and there were bloody, shining white feathers everywhere, and in the center of the hall… Lucifer, _the Devil_ , crouching like a feeding tiger over the body of Marcus… Pierce… the Sinnerman… CAIN.

Her first response was actually relief, and it came through as she spoke his name. _Lucifer won._ _He’s alive._

 _“Lucifer…”_ Even with the world flipping wildly in a paradigm shift to beat all, she spoke the name of the Devil as her partner, her friend, and maybe… something more. And she wondered if it would be the last time she did.

He rose slowly, and turned. Tall, slender, and ever graceful in his black suit, red pocket square stark as the bright blood that matched it, exposed as he turned, a slash across his left bicep. Then, as he fully faced her, she didn’t miss the pattern of bullet holes across his chest, ripped through his white shirt, bloodless. And then her gaze lit on his face. 

His eyes burned with Hellfire, and his skin was leathered rivulets of lava, twisted and tortured. His was the face that had driven Jimmy Barnes to madness, and left countless others sobbing on the floor, begging for forgiveness. It was the face of eternal torment.

Lucifer _, the Devil_ , gazed at her and she saw the relief in his mangled features.  _The Devil_ was glad to see her well.

A voice in her head was uttering a primal scream.  _He’s the Devil! He’s the Devil!_ And she could hear the thump of a madman’s brow against Plexiglas, exploding into red smears of horror.

She knew he recognized the terror in her when his expression began to shift.  To fear.

“Detective?”

It was his soft, cultured, British accent, his voice, but… It. Could. Not. Possibly. Be. Him.

Even though she’d put it all together on her way down from the roof, it was still the greatest shock of her life to actually see the truth confirmed. There was still a part of her that wanted to go back to the bliss of ignorance. She found herself backing up, and the words came out of her mouth, rang in her brain, over and over _It’s all true, it’s all true, it’s all true…_

Her mind tried to mend this reality, patch it back to the man she knew, and she was transported back to the roof.  She saw his angelic aspect, beautiful, dark eyes looking down at her with such unmistakable love, even though he’d never spoken it _.  “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”_

Countless shell casings scattered around him. Bloodied feathers at his feet.

_Safe. He… flew me to safety. He saved me, but at what cost?_

His Hellfire eyes widened slightly. Yes, that was fear _. The Devil, fallen archangel, second in power only to God,_ was afraid. Of her. Why? She realized that he didn’t know until he saw her terror reflected back, that he was facing her in all his tortured, hellish glory.

_Another errant memory popped into her brain, sitting in the cruiser, Lucifer munching on Cool Ranch Puffs, while they waited on kidnappers. He’d told her he couldn’t offer her proof, like horns or a tail. “Do I scare you?” he’d asked her. She’d looked at him a long moment and said, “No.”_

_There was something in his eyes when she said that, something that shifted and she’d never been able to put her finger on it. Now she knew.  It was precious to him, that she could look at him fearlessly._

And now that was gone. She wanted to speak, to tell him it was just shock, that there was more to process than just who he had always told her he really was. Lately he’d been much more adamant, even going so far as to say, “They’re not metaphors,” when she demanded he stop his Devil talk. She should have known. Lucifer might evade, but he never lied. Instead she had twisted herself into a logic pretzel, telling him it was “his” truth.

_That soft flicker in his eyes, after she’d said, “I don’t see you that way,” and he’d answered, “Lately I’m not sure I do either.”_

 There was something critically important about that. No, _cosmically_ important.

She saw him raise his burning eyes to the sky for just an instant. _He’s looking for his Father.  His Father, God._ And he whispered, with such misery in his voice, “Dad, please… for her sake… don’t do this.”

The moment was sacred, but fleeting. His tense shoulders shifted a bit, slightly relaxing, and she wondered if … wondered if … God, his Dad, had answered, this time.

The Devil lowered his head, lifted his hands to cover his face. He pushed his scarred hands up to his scalp, and his visage shifted like a mirage. The face of _Lucifer, her partner,_ returned, his high cheekbones and shadow of beard familiar, the proud nose and dark hair over his eyes… his eyes that should have been dark, too, almost black, but they were not. Hellfire still burned there.  He grimaced, struggling, those perfect lips drawn tight. Touches of flame flickered across his face, burning from within, threatening to consume him.  His slender hands, too, sparked with tiny embers, dancing along his fingers.

Lucifer glanced at her for an instant, his white teeth bared, feral, hands buried in his dark hair, and the blaze in his eyes was even more terrifying because it came from the face of her partner, her friend. Her best friend. But there was also a part of her that cried out for him, his agony.  _He’s burning… He must be in terrible pain…_

Lucifer lowered his head, hiding his flame-shot gaze. “Chloe… I would never hurt you.  You know that, right?”

How could it be that it still felt special to hear her name, instead of “Detective” come from his lips? Even now, coming from the Devil himself, something shifted in her, like a butterfly struggling within its chrysalis.

She found herself shaking her head, but she meant … did she really mean she felt safe with _the Devil?_ He dared lift his gaze to watch her answer, and his eyes narrowed in confusion, hurt.

_A montage of all the times he could have hurt her and didn’t flickered through her mind, moments when he faced murderers that he clearly wanted to tear apart, but when he’d turned his gaze to her, he always relented, his dark eyes gentling. She had only once seen any trace of this Hellfire rage, a flash in a reflection that she convinced herself she had imagined._

_It ended with the time she threw herself at him, blackout drunk, and he didn’t take advantage of her. Mortified, the next morning she asked if they had… she hadn’t even been able to finish the thought. “Nope,” he’d said, popping the “p” with a delighted grin._

_Of course, first he’d playfully tortured her with tales of Rosemary’s baby and “the heat, the gymnastics” she’d performed that would make even the Devil blush, all the while, slowly, gleefully, chasing her across his black silk sheets on his knees._

And if she were being totally honest with herself, it hadn’t been the thought of being with him that way that horrified her.  It was the aftermath, of being one of his many, many discards _“I’m walking heroin...  It never ends well,”_ and still wanting to work with him, spend time with him, maybe something more…

_But surely if he had some diabolical design on me, to take my body and soul, that would have been the night to enact it, yeah?_

Though her body now betrayed her with its trembling denial of all that the Devil represented, she managed to speak, to clarify. “I… know.”

Lucifer sighed, a rough sound torn from his chest. “Right. That’s progress. You speak. To _me_.” He scoffed, disbelieving.  “You are an amazingly strong woman, Chloe.”

But he couldn’t look at her. “If only I could… shake this off. Bloody hell, this is the best I seem to be able to do.” He still held his hands in his hair, his elbows up as if to ward off an attack from above, hunched as if he instinctively feared he might be struck from existence by a pillar of flame from Heaven.

“But it’s not Dad’s doing. I know that now.” He slowly drew his hands down, and he hissed, wincing in pain. _He_ was _hurt._ She suspected she knew where, but that was another mind-boggling aspect of him she couldn’t wrap her mind around, despite the evidence of bloodied … _bloodied feathers…_ strewn around the hall. It looked like an albino condor exploded.

The flames still played with those slender, pianist’s hands. He shoved them in his pockets, sneaking glances at her, for all the world like a too tall, shy kid confronted with his puppy love crush. Except for the Hellfire that flickered across his skin and blazed in his eyes.

So he wasn’t afraid of his Father, in this moment.  He was afraid of _her._   The Devil was afraid of her. Of losing her? Or something … else?

Chloe had been standing there, staring, slack-jawed, throughout. At least she wasn’t backing up anymore, though that might be because her heel had met the first stair behind her. She remembered, suddenly, to breathe. She sucked in a huge gasp of air, and Lucifer, eyes averted, startled at the sound. _Okay. I can do this. Just… think about what needs to be done. Don’t pass out. Don’t go into shock._

“I don’t… feel very strong… right now,” she managed on the exhale.

He nodded, once. “I need to get you out of here. You were _shot_ , Chloe. Yes, you had a vest, but… You could be going into shock.” He turned his head to profile, now in an alert, listening mode. “Cain brought his top men. These three are down, for now, but one got away. He’s coming back with reinforcements. And the LAPD will be here at any moment.  Both are spectacularly bad scenarios.” Lucifer spat the last with venom.

She was trying, she really was. But everything he said struck her like a tsunami of trouble. It was strange to hear him focusing so precisely on the crime scene. Wasn’t that _her_ role? He had always been so distracted by his own issues, before.  His _cosmic_ issues, she realized now.

She wobbled, her knees suddenly gave way, and she realized he was right.  Shock. Physical _and_ emotional.  He lunged toward her, instinctively, to catch her. Her body shivered with electric terror, recoiling from his fire, her head floated back and the ceiling of the loft spun and receded, and then there was his face close above her, still burning, _his eyes… his eyes…_ and yet his flaming hands cradled the back of her head and steadied her back and there was no flash of pain.

He held her as if in a graceful dip of a tango, and a soft huff of his breath touched her face.  She caught his scent, simultaneously remembering it from rare moments so close to him before _. Like the night of the prom he’d created just for her._ _A whisper of whiskey, a whiff of cologne. Top shelf, always the best._

“Does it… hurt _you_?” she whispered.

 “It won’t hurt _you_ ,” he answered, evading again. “Hellfire only burns the guilty.”

***

Lucifer looked into her precious, sometimes green, now blue eyes, even as she floated in and out of reality, and could barely contain his awe.  He saw her recoil from him when he lunged to catch her, and yet the first thing that came to her mind was concern… for him. The Devil.

Briefly, he considered summoning Amenadiel, but instantly dismissed it. His big brother was in the Silver City, now, with Charlotte, and had done more than enough for him. Lucifer remembered how scornfully he had treated the fallen angel, daring him to pop out his wings right there in Lux, when Amenadiel had tried to share the truth of their existence. He felt… _ashamed_. Linda would be proud, that he could put a name to this feeling so adroitly. This time he would deal with his own mess.

He could hear the sirens coming closer, but he sensed other presences, dark, nearer. _Nasty buggers._   They were creeping closer every second. He didn’t know if his battered wings could take it, or even if they were still a part of him, but he was bloody well going to try.

Lucifer scooped Chloe up in his arms and her head lolled forward to his chest. Holding her was like holding Light itself, ephemeral, calling to his deepest truth.

_Please, Dad, belay your judgment for this murder. You can smite me later if you bloody well want. Let my wings still be there… For her._

Crouching slightly, he rolled his shoulders, already gritting his teeth in anticipation of the pain as he drew forth his wings. They made a horrible cracking sound as they stretched out to his sides.  It was worse than he expected and a cry of agony ripped from his lungs, and yet the prevailing feeling he had was relief that they were still his to use, to get his detective to safety.

“Lucifer…?” Chloe murmured, raising her head, lifting her hand to press against his chest. He glanced down at her, saw her eyes widen when they fell on his wings raised up behind him, bloody, battered, shivering with his anguish, but still glowing with divinity.

“Cain’s men are coming, but I’ve got you,” he panted. “I _will_ get you out of here.”

He heard them, yelling. “There he is! Don’t let them…” and he launched himself upward with another agonized, drawn-out cry, pushing his bullet-riddled wings to the limit, shifting dimensions through the Earthly materials of the ceiling, through floor after floor, just as the crack of gunfire erupted below them. His right wing was more badly damaged than the left, barely under his control, which pushed them into a slow spin. All he could think was to go up, up, so high, so fast, they couldn’t be seen.  He cleared the building and shot into the bright blue sky.

Chloe was clinging to his neck desperately, a pitiful whine coming from her throat. He could only imagine how her stomach was flipping as they broke the sound barrier, gaining altitude, ensconced in a protective sphere of Light that shimmered around them, humming with celestial vibrations.

His wings surged, trailing Light, trailing blood, and every beat was pain beyond measure, but so, so worth it.

For her.


	2. Burning Blessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer weighs options, worried about Chloe going into shock. She worries about his wounded wings.

Lucifer flared his wings to brake, then leveled off to glide. They were now far above the city, far above the busy LAX air traffic, far above the clouds, where the silence was so complete, so pervasive, even his thoughts seemed loud in comparison. Around them the sky was blue, above it darkened at the end of the atmosphere. If he were not banished from the dimension of Heaven, it would be visible, here. He had never been back here since his Fall, eons ago.

Chloe shivered in his arms, even though he was using his long despised Lightbringer powers to protect her from the cold, the wind, the change in atmosphere. 

The glide was easier on his wings, but there were muscles in his back and legs that were nearly atrophied that he was now using to lock his body in aerodynamic form, and they were clearly not happy. He ignored it all, his focus on the frail, human woman he was holding, careful to keep her securely close, but ever so mindful not to crush her. For him, considering the immense rage rush that had kept him going after she had been shot and that hail of bullets ripped into his wings, it was as precarious as hugging a butterfly.

He feared she was going into shock, so he kept her knees elevated. It wasn’t the best, but it was the best he could do.

“Chloe, you’re safe. You’re safe,” he whispered.

She looked up at him, blue eyes wide and innocent, and he could only imagine how he appeared to her, his own eyes still raging and the Hellfire flickering across his face.  How could she believe him now? She opened her mouth, but closed it again without speaking.  Sometime in the wild rush upward, she must have surrendered her fate to him, because she was no longer clinging desperately to his neck.  One arm lay loosely across his shoulder, and the other was curled at her chest, between them.  He hoped it was a sign of trust, not exhaustion or shock.

Finally she said, “Oh, Lucifer… Your poor wings! How are you even  _doing_  this?”

Lucifer gaped at her, stunned. No one in his very, very long life had ever looked at him with such incredible compassion. Relief flooded him. All this time, he had been so afraid of her rejection. Was it possible she could actually accept him, the Devil, this easily? How could he be so… dare he even think it… _blessed?_

It took everything he had to choke off a laugh. He  _had_  managed to develop enough empathy to imagine how it might appear to her if he broke into hysterical laughter at this moment. Laughing now might look maniacal. It could very well shock her, convince her that she was completely wrong about him, that he was, after all, the Prince of Darkness, the Lord of Lies, carting her off to an eternity of torture. For once, he chose to keep his emotionally challenged mouth shut, and remain speechless.

He simply averted his eyes, and shook his head.  After a long moment, choosing his words carefully, he said, “Don’t worry, Detective, I’ll live.” But he couldn’t repress a slight smile.

Selecting that appellation seemed the right move.  It wasn’t meant to distance her, but to remind her of her strength.

She actually reached up, slowly, so carefully, and touched his face. He kept his eyes straight forward, but his peripheral vision was acutely focused on her.  “You saved me. Twice,” she whispered. “And that’s just today.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, but he didn’t think she was ready for his usual, asinine commentary, so he bit his tongue and said nothing. Dipping his left wing slightly, he started a slow turn, planning to circle the city until they could decide on a plan, a place to go.

Lucifer hazarded a glance at her face. “Detective. Are you … all right? It’s a bit difficult to check you for signs of shock from up here, even more so to treat you.”

“I think… I’m okay, now.” She turned her head to look down. “Ooooooh… we are really, really high up here, yeah?” 

He couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Detective, we are.”

Chloe turned her head back to look at him, eyes suddenly wide again. “Wait… Lucifer… am I dead? Are  _we_?”

Startled, he shook his head. “No, no, no, no, Detective, we’re fine.  I promise, we’re quite lively, and still bound to the Earth. Well, you are, I have one other… realm… to which I can go.” When he saw the look on her face at his last clarification, he truly regretted that he  _had_  to be so honest.

“You’re talking about…” she started, but her voice just died at the thought.

This was worrying.  She might… what would Linda call it? Disassociate, or something like that. He had to get her back to a safe place, something grounded in her familiar reality. He was at a loss as to where to go, stuck in his in between state. Thankfully, the world was inexorably turning, however, and night would soon cover the city. That would make it easier to land on his balcony, unseen. Yes, he had several other properties in the city, but none had the unseen access of the high balcony, and none were familiar territory to Chloe, something he felt she needed desperately. There was a hitch, though.

“I need to take you home, but there’s a problem. There are three people back at my penthouse. Daniel, Miss Lopez, and that cretin, Barrow.” He paused, quickly slapped a harness on the beast of his anger before he could think about how that bloody miscreant had tricked them into a trap.

Chloe gasped. “Oh, no… Dan! I silenced my phone before I ran back down the stairs. He and Ella must be out of their minds, wondering what happened to us.”  With one hand grasping the back of his jacket collar, she patted her pockets with the other, finally locating the phone. She fumbled for it, drew it out with a shaky hand, and, of course, it squirted out of her grasp as if dipped in butter.

“No!” Chloe exclaimed, snatching for it to no avail. It plummeted out of sight. He tightened his grip on her slightly, alarmed by her scrambling.

“Oops…” Lucifer said, grimacing.  “Not going to dive for it. Sorry, not sorry. I really hope that doesn’t hit someone down there. No one who doesn’t deserve it, anyway.”  He glanced down, directing her with his gaze. “Try mine?  Carefully… Left inside pocket.” Secretly he was glad she was responding more normally, in this anything but normal situation for her.

She reached inside his ebony jacket and managed to pull it out, her hands steadier this time.

“Lucifer...” she said, her tone awed. She held it before his still flaming eyes. There was a bullet hole clean through it.

“Oops…” he said again, with a sheepish grin. He had to wonder what that looked like on his Hell-marked face. Shrugging, he suppressed a wince as the movement radiated a sharp stab of lightning through his wings.

“It’s likely there’s no service up here anyway.”


	3. Burning Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe looks too close into his eyes...

Chloe couldn’t stop staring at Lucifer’s eyes, even though she knew he was avoiding meeting her gaze.

“Truly, it vexes me no end that of the three, Barrow is the only one who really knows who I am,” he said.

She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful after this declaration. “You want to go there, anyway. You want Dan and Ella to see you.”

Lucifer glanced at her, and she didn’t completely freak out. Maybe she was acclimating to his Hellfire gaze? Maybe it only affected the guilty so dangerously? 

It occurred to her then that perhaps it was good that they had been forced together like this. She knew that, if she were honest with herself, she might have run from him just to get some time to breathe, to process. Would that time have been good for either of them, or just created distance when they needed to work through this revelation together? Remembering the look on his face when he realized she saw him, truly _saw_ him, she thought he might have run, too. And where would he have run to, this time? Would he have gone back… where he came from, never to be seen again?

They were cruising slowly, the wind flowing past them almost gently. She had time to wonder that she could breathe normally, and wasn’t freezing. Up here, the approach of night was such a stark reminder that humanity existed all together on a big ball, floating through endless space, and that it was the earth that turned to bring the stars, not the sun that moved below the horizon. With the shadow, she made out the subtle, shimmering outline of Light around them, and knew that Lucifer, somehow, was protecting her, even now.

She realized she was blocking out the biggest questions, trying to take baby steps, even though her partner, _the Archangel Lucifer,_ had now carried her to the threshold of Heaven.

Like, where was Heaven, anyway?

“I should have showed you my wings,” he said, still focused on the decision to return to the penthouse and reveal his true nature to Ella and Dan. Regret was clear in his tone. “I should have picked the time, not have…” he tossed his head to indicate himself… “ _this_ thrust on you because of _Cain’s_ …” Lucifer practically spat the name “…horrendously bad choices.” He paused, and tightness crossed his jaw. “And mine.”

“Why didn’t you?” she prompted, gently.

He sighed, roughly.  So close to him, she felt his chest heave. “Because I didn’t see my wings as a part of _who I am_. It felt like a lie. What, tell you I’m the Devil, then pop these pretty things out? Well, usually pretty. Besides, Amenadiel constantly warns me that humans can’t handle Divinity. Or he used to.”

 _Amenadiel. His brother. The angel…?_ Questions flooded her mind, but Lucifer seemed to sense this, and plowed forward with his train of thought. “In any case, perhaps I shouldn’t make that mistake again. Yes, I’ve always told all of you the truth about me, but I know you don’t believe me. Still, is it my place to make you believe, or am I _trampling_ your free will, your choice to remain in your bubble of comfortable ignorance? Or can you humans even _exercise_ free will without the whole truth?”

Suddenly it occurred to her that she was talking to the infinitely ancient being who had offered the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil to Eve, according to the Bible. And, listening to him, she could completely understand why, from his perspective.  Apparently, back then, he had determined the answer to the last question was a resounding no. She suspected he was now making that same decision. It was clear, as always, free will was his compass and his rock.

“Are we still talking about Dan and Ella, or all of humanity?  Maybe we should keep this down to a bite size level,” Chloe interjected.

He looked at her for a long moment, a glimmer of respect in his burning eyes. Considering her, he seemed to have forgotten himself, his need to keep his gaze averted.

Unfortunately, Chloe wasn’t exactly a saint, completely pure, in her own estimation.  She fell into the blaze of his eyes.

Resonating in her soul was the seduction of fame and the illicit thrill of admiration, the vanity of _Hot Tub High School_ , the thunderous sound of four bullets unloaded in Malcolm’s chest, her aim locked down by desperate rage, and there were countless other tiny pricks of shame threatening to overwhelm her, not least of which was her lust… for the Devil.  A dream floated through her conscience, his hands on her body, his lips pressed to hers, _she’d ripped off his shirt,_ his wickedly seductive laugh.  And her subconscious had given him horns, after all. Perhaps she had already accepted him, in the deepest part of herself, back then, because all she had felt then was joyous abandon.

But now, the worst… “How about c _omplete whackjob,”_ she remembered suggesting to Dan as a fitting label for Lucifer. Dan stomped away, disgusted with the playboy club owner he’d pointed out to her, lounging on her desk, flirting with a female officer. With handcuffs. And again, “That whackjob is going to totally get me killed,” she’d said, while he played with the officer’s gun.  This was after she’d _shot_ him, which was another cold case reopened, now, metaphorically.  Immortal sometimes, mortal at others? Why _were_ there clean bullet holes in his shirt, but his wings were shot to shreds?

What other cruel remarks had she directed Lucifer’s way in her denial? Somehow, she knew, looking in his eyes now, that he had senses beyond a normal human, and he quite likely had heard her, every time.

And then she heard herself, sounding just a tad like so many others she had seen, crumpled on the floor, begging. “I’m sorry, Lucifer. I’m so sorry…” 

His burning eyes widened with the flash of this sin download.  He turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut.  “No… no… It’s all right, Chloe… You don’t deserve this.” But then he turned back, slowly, gave her a curious look, a lifted brow. Could he see her _dream?_

Chloe shook her head to clear it. She felt a cleansing sting of guilt drawn out of her and burned away. She had a vision of _ashes_ blowing through her soul and lifting into the wind. She felt … lighter. Cleaner.

“No, I really am sorry. Why did you stay by my side?  I was so dismissive of you. You _heard_ me, didn’t you?”

His eyes flickered to her, once, then forward again, scanning the horizon, and he smiled slightly. “I remember.  It’s all right, Detective. I forgive you. I was fascinated. You were adorable. I didn’t know then _you_ could hurt me …” Another swift flicker to her face, his expression a clear _uh-oh_.  He set his mouth in a thin line, clearly having said too much.

“Lucifer! There’s more you’re hiding from me?” she said, her tone accusing.

He winced. “Yes. No. I’m not hiding, it’s just… Don’t you think you should give yourself some time to deal with my ‘Luciferness’ before you choke on more? I give you my word, I will tell you everything you want to know, not just need to, and more, _when you’re ready_. Everything.”

She looked at him, eyes narrowed, but her ire was receding. They _had_ agreed to talk, after all, just before they had been drawn into Cain’s trap. “All right,” she conceded.

“Right-o. Well, there really seems to be nothing to it but that we head back to the penthouse.  I truly hope Detective Douche and Miss Lopez will be able to handle the truth as gracefully, nay, even more than that, _compassionately,_ as you have. Are we in agreement?”

He was right. There was really no other option. She nodded.

Lucifer dipped a ragged wing and they dove toward the Earth and the lights of the City of Angels.

           

           


	4. Burning Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer brings Chloe home, despite the fact that Dan and Ella are there. And he's just in time...  
> ***  
> Lucifans, as of 6/18/19, this is a pretty radical rewrite. Ella KNEW all along! I mean, come on, she's got that Rainman brain, she doesn't miss much. She would put it together, right? And maybe realize it's best if everyone deals with it in their own way, so she doesn't even tell Lucifer that she knows. Just keeps showing him the love!

Dan was frantic. Chloe wasn’t answering her phone, and he was out of his mind worrying. Even though he was furious with Lucifer, he tried his cell, too.  No answer there, either.

He turned to Ella and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Her dark eyes were wide. “It’s gonna be okay, buddy. You know they take care of each other.”

“Really?  Was Lucifer looking out for her when he didn’t tell us Pierce was the Sinnerman?”

Ella grimaced.  “I’m sure he had his reasons…  Come on, it’s _obvious,_ the dude cares about Chloe. No lie, it was killing him seeing her with Pierce! You saw him, he was a mess. Besides, Chloe told me on one of our Tribe nights that she didn’t believe him when he brought up the Sinnerman in the first place.  She believed when _Pierce_ said the Sinnerman was real, but not when Lucifer did. You guys stopped believing anything he says a long time ago, so why wouldn’t he stop trying to tell you anything?”

Dan looked a little abashed at that, so she switched to a gentler tack. “And maybe he thought it was Pierce’s secret to tell, if he really cared about Chloe. Maybe he thought Pierce would change for her…  _Lucifer_ certainly has. I can’t exactly judge, Pierce had me totally fooled, too.”

Dan flopped down on the Italian leather couch and stared at the flames embedded along the wall, then shook his head in disgust. “This. Is. Hell.”

Ella kept pacing, between the couch and the piano. She scoffed. “Not sure how Lucifer would take your assessment of his decorating, I mean, really, dude.” She shook her head with a slight smile. “I know it feels like it right now, but try to have faith.  Honestly, mine’s not … at its strongest, either.  Not in God, anyway. Funny thing, _Lucifer_ was actually sticking up for Him, for once. Me, I’m pretty miffed with the Big Guy.”

Dan looked at her curiously. “You? Seriously? So who _do_ you have faith in?”

Ella stopped her pacing, and gave him a long look, measuring. She put her hands out in front of her as if to ward off his disbelief. “Dan, you might not want to hear this, but I’ve seen some completely unexplainable stuff with Lucifer.  Unexplainable, that is, unless you dive into the unbelievable.”

She paused, taking a breath as if about to dive into a frigid pool. “Unbelievable, that is, unless you have faith.”

Dan turned his head, his stomach lurching with a visceral, negative reaction to the direction the conversation was taking.  _Charlotte…_

Ella picked up on his reaction immediately.  “Dan, I know what you’re feeling.  That’s been… hurting me, too. That’s what Lucifer and I were talking about.  And Dan, I think we might just need to listen to him a _little_ more closely.” She held up her finger and thumb with a trace of air between them and tilted her head.

“Listen to _him_? With all the crazy shit that comes out of his mouth?”

Ella grimaced.  “Yeah, well, that’s just it, Dan. I’m not so sure it’s all that crazy.  I think it’s time to fess up, I haven’t been sure of _that_ for quite a while. You remember that case with Bianca Ruiz?  I was examining the vic, who had a bullet hole through his hand, and I said, ‘Too bad you can’t catch bullets.’ And Lucifer’s standing over there with his Lucifer smirk and he says, ‘Well,  _he_ can’t, maybe.’ And just grins." Ella’s lips twisted into a pirate smile. “I know, cray cray, right? Per usual, you guys just ignored him.”

Dan scoffed, a habitual response to Lucifer’s off the wall remarks.

Ella forged on bravely. “But then, when I went to Las Vegas with him to help Candy, I was watching from the wings when Lucifer faced off with this bartender dude who tried to kill her to get her club. He was finagling a confession out of Mr. Killer Bartender when the guy started shooting. I swear, Dan, I saw him catch a bullet in his right hand, take one in his side, then catch one in his left. Totally bloodless. There is no way he could get a vest under those slim suits he wears, either.”

Ella tilted her head and tightened her lips.  “He _told_ the guy, ‘You can’t kill me.’ _Lucifer doesn’t lie._ You guys may have stopped paying attention, but I...  I can’t.”

_Is she really saying this? That she believes Lucifer is really the Devil?_

Dan was silent for a moment. _Bloodless bullet holes._  Little things Lucifer had said and done started nagging at the back of his mind. Dan stared at her, biting his lip.  Confession _time, I guess.  Not my fav, but there it is._

“Yeah.  Yeah…  I’ve seen him do stuff, too. Ella… Before you came to work with us, I saw something like that, too. Lucifer held a charity ball at Lux, for the Dunlear Foundation, to help find Dunlear’s murderer. I went up to Lucifer’s penthouse and he… He was lying on the floor, glazed eyes open dead, bullet holes in his shirt.  Bloodless, like you saw. I swear to God, he was dead. But then he just sucked in a huge breath and sat up. He was fine.” Dan paused, letting Ella take that in.

She watched him, nodding slowly. “And…?” she prompted.

The floodgates were open. Dan continued. “And soon after that, he and his brother just … disappeared… once, right out of my office.  I turned away for a literal _second,_ and they were just… gone. Nothing but papers flying in the _wind_ around my desk.  And yeah, I have to admit, the man can fight. When we went for those ingredients for the antidote for Chloe…  He popped us out of our handcuffs and tossed those goons around without even thinking about it.”

Ella had a stunned look on her face. “Whoa.  I had no idea Lucifer was such a badass! I mean, the guy can be a bit prim and proper, you know? Honestly, I kinda thought he’d be the type to girly scream and hide behind the furniture when the you-know-what hits the fan just so he wouldn’t mess up his Prada or whatever. At least, I did when I first met him. But after seeing what I’ve seen, and with what you’re telling me… Are you saying what I think we’re saying?”

Dan just stared at her, his lips tight. _This can’t be real. Lucifer isn’t … really…_ the _Lucifer, is he?_

Ella gave him a long look. “Okay… okay… okay,” she said, then nodded. “Look, I just want you to know, I think Chloe will be fine with him backing her up. Lucifer lo…um, really cares for Chloe. That case with Maze out at with Monte de Oro? There was some evidence I examined.  The rifle Lucifer took from the shooter…? Dan, the _barrel was bent_. I mean, right angle bent. ”

His face froze. “What…? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying Lucifer is also _super_ strong. I even checked for some chemical trace to see if he used some kind of trick, and there was nothing. _Nobody_ could do that.”  She didn’t say, _nobody human_ , but she could have.

He shook his head, stared for a moment more, then slapped his hands on his thighs and got to his feet. “The last thing Chloe said, before she ended the call… She said, ‘Maybe I’ve been avoiding the biggest truth this whole time.’ This whole time.  She wasn't talking about Pierce.” He looked at Ella, and bit his lip.  “Maybe we've all been avoiding it.”

Ella took all this in. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Well. Just wow.” She nodded. “So, I feel even _more_ weird saying what I was going to say, now. You asked me who I have faith in? I was going to say I have faith in Lucifer…”  She reached up and touched the spot where her cross usually hung outside her shirt for all to see, but she had tucked it away.

“One thing’s for sure, though. _Nobody’s_ going to hurt Chloe, if _he_ can possibly help it, Dan. Nah-dee-ay.”

***

Lucifer took a slow sweep around the outside of the building, scanning the interior of his penthouse.  He didn’t think he could be seen, with the reflections of the penthouse lighting off the windows acting as a natural screen, but his eyes still burned, his skin was still flickering like a torch and his wings were shedding Light, as usual.  It didn’t really matter, at this point, he supposed. They would see him in all his halfway hellish glory soon enough.

When they came around to the bedroom where Barrow was secured, all thoughts of hesitation fled.  Because he wasn’t secured. Barrow had just managed to pull his wrists free of his binding, and was yanking the tape from his ankles. Dan and Ella were in the main room, unaware.

“Lucifer! Barrow’s getting free!” Chloe actually patted the empty holster at her hip. “Crap…”

“I see him. Bloody Hell. Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” Lucifer banked sharply and came in to the balcony, feeling Chloe tense in his arms, preparing herself to fight, even though he knew she needed to be still. Without full control of his right wing, his landing was harder than he would have liked, jarring his wounded wings. He cried out sharply, and Dan and Ella both turned at the sound.

Eyes wide, mouths open in flabbergasted “O”s. He could only imagine what they were seeing. 

Lucifer strode into the room, pulling his bloody, glowing wings close to his back yet still unfurled.  He couldn’t take the time to bring them in; in their condition, it was an agonizing struggle. Even though Chloe had said she was fine, (she always said she was fine) he was still concerned about shock, so he held on to her still, hesitant to put her on her feet. If he had a moment to look more closely at his… feelings… there was another reason he didn’t want to let her go…

“Lucifer, put me—“ Chloe started.

“Taking you to the couch, Detective. Shock, remember? I can handle this. _Peace, be still,_ ” he added, in what he knew must be the grumpiest, most resentful, command tone those words had ever been spoken by a celestial being. It had the desired effect, however.  Light flowed from him and resonated with her, and he knew she felt it, that she would allow herself to bathe in it and heal. _And stay out of danger._

He swept over to said couch and deposited her gently, propping her knees up and turning in one fluid movement to head for the adjoining room. And sure enough, there was an odd emptiness in his middle, the second he was no longer holding her. _Mind the gap, as they say._

“Your captive is free, Daniel,” he said, in as calming a voice as one could say something like that while one’s eyes are flaming and one’s skin is burning, just as Barrow burst from the room.  Apparently he’d scrabbled through some drawers in the bedroom and found something pointy to use as a weapon.  Ella was the closest target, so Barrow dove for her.  Until now, she hadn’t taken her eyes off Lucifer’s. She turned at the sound of Barrow’s approach and yelped, jazz hands up and shaking.

“I. Don’t. Think. So,” Lucifer snarled at Barrow. Not close enough to intercept any other way, he snapped his left wing forward and swatted the man like a fly, pinning him to the floor at Ella’s feet.

“I wouldn’t squirm if I were you. Those particular feathers are _not_ fluffy. And I’m not in the mood to dance with you, you lying miscreant.” He paused, panting, tamping down the pain from his bleeding, overworked wings. “You nearly got the detective _killed_ ,” he growled.

Saying those words suddenly brought it home. _If that bullet had been an inch higher…_  

He would never have seen her again.  Just like Charlotte, she would have been forever beyond his grasp.

A different kind of pain suddenly racked him. It felt like someone had just slammed him in the chest with a bat (while the detective was in range). A choked sound came from his throat.

_Get it together. Bloody hell, get it under control._

Perceptive Ella was standing beside him, gaping, but now, watching his face, he saw her slowly close her mouth, and a different expression crossed hers.

***

_Well, there it is. Finally. I hope giving Dan a little prep time helped. Hah. Only took him three years to figure it out, even though Lucifer’s been telling us the whole blessed time._

_I_ knew _it. Almost since the first day I met him. Come on, Chloe coming in and asking if I believed all that Heaven and Hell stuff was real, and she’s got a partner named Lucifer who talks in the first person about ruling Hell? And everyone seems to forget that I can see out of that lab. I saw her staring at a blood sample right after that bizarre conversation, and then she tossed it._

_Well, I didn’t. No way. Good thing I can run my own tests on the down low._

 I’m _more of a “method actor” than Lucifer. Well, as far as I know._

_Anyway, looks like all that role playing paid off.  It was better for them to come to terms with it in their own time. God knows, I had to._

_Lucifer’s the Devil. The real, live Devil._

_And he’s in love with Chloe Decker._

Ella had probably never stood so still for so long in her life, minus the interruption where she jumped out of her skin because of the now squashed Barrow bug at her feet.  The range of emotions that ran through her went from a second of unreasoning, primal, heart-zinging and knee-quaking _OMG!_ when she saw Lucifer’s burning eyes, face and hands, as he _landed on the balcony_ _with his huge, white, bloody wings_ extended and marched into the room, softening to simple brain-numbed _Holy crap!_ as she acknowledged that Chloe was safe in his arms, to a trace of _Awww, fuzzy bunnies_ as he carefully laid her friend on the couch.  Then, she was struck by super _-zing I’m going to die!_ again, this time at turning to see Barrow lunging at her. All topped off by a thrill of jubilation _Take that, jackass!_ when Lucifer swatted him like a big ugly bug, saving her.  And she’d been frozen through nearly all of it.

Now, as she turned her gaze inexorably back to Lucifer’s face and saw the raw anguish in his burning eyes, the way his mouth twisted, she could forget for the moment that he was the Devil, _and you know, I always did think he got a bad rap_ and remember that he was her friend, and he’d just saved Chloe, and her, and he was in pain. She could see he was struggling to hide how affected he was by the mere thought of Chloe’s death.

The guy had suffered enough humiliation at Pierce’s hands, and she didn’t think his British _(wait, was the Devil really British?)_ heart could take breaking down in front of them all. So she thought the best way to pitch in would be to help him back away from that emotional cliff.

So, she did what she did best, in her super exuberant way.

“Whoa, Luc… ifer! Dude. Talk about badass! You’re a frickin’ superhero! Whoo-ee, that was a-maze-balls!” she blurted, giving a little fist pump.

Lucifer froze for a second, then turned his head slowly toward her, his brows coming together over those burning eyes, _and holy shit his face is on fire and his poor pianist’s hands_ and his jaw dropped. “Miss Lopez?” he said, obviously caught off guard by her reaction.  But not thinking sad thoughts anymore.

 _Mission accomplished._ Then she turned to Dan, who was standing frozen, staring at Lucifer’s back _. His wings._   “Dan, hey, how about let’s get some restraints back on this guy? Lucifer looks like he’s had enough for today. That can’t be comfy, pinning the dude with his wings… can’t believe I’m saying _this!_ His _wings_ all shot up.”

Dan gawked at her like she’d grown another head. “Ella, he’s the—“

“Yeah, Dan, you know, we _did_ just figure that out, didn’t we? I mean, I was beginning to think he was a _terrible_ actor and all, never getting that part all these years.”

 _My God, they believed that crock?_ Ella turned to Lucifer and lowered her right eyelid in a slow, sly wink. His back was to Dan, so the slight flicker of recognition in his burning eyes and the answering wink he gave her went unseen. She cherished his hesitant smile, like a brother sharing a pinky swear secret. So incongruous with the terrible tales about the Devil.

Scoffing, she focused back on Dan and went on with the act. “But he couldn’t have been, ‘cause he _never_ broke character! Ergo, he had to really _be_ the Devil, right?”

She nodded at Dan, her mouth open, in the way that you do when you’re feeding a kid and trying to get them to sympathetically open their mouth too, so you can cram in the spinach.

Dan did actually start nodding, then he caught himself and got an indignant look on his face. “What the Hell? Ella? Holy shit! What the Hell?”

Lucifer couldn’t look at Dan, directly behind him, and probably shouldn’t have anyway, but he flicked a glance at her and said softly, “Very punny, De—er, Daniel.” _Kinda glad he’s not going with the Douche thing, considering. Looks like the Devil actually can learn to be considerate._ Then, “Ooowww…  Perp here, Daniel?” adding a bit of reinforcement to her dead-on assessment of the pain level he was in with his _OMG!_ wings.

Dan’s gaze went from Ella, to Lucifer’s back, to Ella, and back to Lucifer. Finally, he scoffed, and made his way around Lucifer’s extended wing, carefully stepped over the blade-like feathers that stretched beyond Mr. Splat-on-the-Floor’s back, and grabbed his wrists, which were thankfully already above his shoulders, not hiding under the literally bloody, not British Devil bloody, wing.  Once Lucifer saw that he had a good grip on the bug, he slowly drew back his wing, so Dan could pull his arms behind his back. One of his wrecked feathers slid across, sliced through his shirt and left a razor stripe across his body. Barrow bug hissed.

“Oooo, did that hurt?” Lucifer snickered. _Oooookay, just a bit scary_.

And all throughout, Chloe did stay put, trusting Lucifer to take care of the sitch, watching everything from the couch, her eyes wide with awe.            


	5. Burning and Bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loss of blood catches up with Lucifer, and Ella helps Chloe figure out what she needs to do to help him.

It really wasn’t like Chloe to just stay put on command, but yes, she felt the irresistible peace that had exuded from Lucifer, and nothing in her soul _and now I know for sure I have one_ wanted to resist it.  She was also feeling a bit overwhelmed, and unarmed.  Literally, unarmed.  She had dropped her gun at the crime scene when she was struck by Pierce’s—no, she had to face it, CAIN’s bullet.

She watched from the couch as Lucifer moved quickly to subdue Barrow.  It was… impressive.

Ella, too, was amazing. From what she’d said, she and Dan had put it all together just before she and Lucifer had made their grand appearance, so perhaps that helped a bit.  She, herself, had that time, running down from the roof before seeing his Hell-scarred form to come to terms with it. It was still the biggest shock of her life, though, still so enormous she would need time to deal with it all. Ella, as a woman of faith, didn’t have the leap to make that she did, as an agnostic, to accept that Lucifer’s reality also included God’s reality.

Once Dan had taken Barrow back into the other room, Lucifer turned, slowly, to look at her, his skin still flickering and his eyes still flaming with his inner Hellfire.  His wings were now close to his back, and she traced down them to see that blood was pooling on the floor around him, and she followed from there to see that he had left a trail of it from the balcony.  He had been bleeding steadily all along, throughout their flight, from God-only-knew how many bullet wounds.

“Chloe, you need a blanket,” he said, turning away with a barely discernible wobble to retrieve it. 

Ella’s gaze had followed her own.  She started forward, reaching out to touch his arm, “Lucifer, I can do that, maybe you should…” but he brushed her off with a gentle pat on her hand, and kept going.

“I know where they are, I’ll only be a minute.”

Ella stared at her hand, wonder at the flames that didn’t burn her in her eyes, shook her head, then turned to Chloe and grimaced behind his back. “Dude doesn’t quit,” she mouthed silently.

True to his word, he returned seconds later, holding a blanket.  Black, of course.  He shook it out and leaned over to lay it over her, but he was careful not to touch her and straightened quickly, backing away.

“Lucifer…” She whispered his name. “You need to be cared for, too.” She had only meant it in regards to the present situation, but as her words sank in, she realized how much more depth they had to him.  Had _anyone_ in his very long life ever truly cared for him?

Lucifer had been keeping his gaze carefully turned to the floor, or anywhere but her eyes, or Ella’s.  They flickered up to her for an instant, and he drew a deep breath, shaking his head slightly, once. His expression…

 _He let her turn him, reach for his scars, but when she touched them, he whipped around so fast, inhumanly fast, catching her wrist. “Don’t.  Please.” His eyes, as he shook his head, shone dark with wounds unspoken, a plea for mercy from_ _her_ _mercy that tore open his heart._

As he released his breath, it was as if all of his strength drained with it.  He started to turn away, then his fire-shot eyes flickered, rolled up in his head and closed.  He stumbled backwards. 

“Lucifer!” Chloe knew he was going down. She threw off the blanket and dove for him, just in time to slip her hand under his head so he didn’t crack his skull when he crashed to the floor, his wings extending instinctively as he fell.

Ella was right beside her, kneeling below his right wing. “Oh, man.  Dude’s lost a _lot_ of blood.  I mean, a _lot_.”

“What – what do we do?” Chloe stuttered. “I don’t know how to help him!”  She knelt over him, one knee between his legs, the other tucked under the trailing feathers of his left wing. “Ella, can we at least get him a pillow?” 

Ella did, returning to take her place beside him and sliding a fairly flat cushion that matched the dark gold Italian leather couch under his head. Chloe let her hands slide carefully to his chest. Her fingers caught on the bullet holes in his shirt.  “He’s always insisted he was immortal, but I’ve seen him bleed.  I _shot_ him once, for God’s sake!”  One hand went to the bullet necklace that she wore.

Ella was shaking her head, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She stared at Lucifer and narrowed her eyes, shifting into forensics mode. “Decker, what exactly happened? Why are his wings shot to hell, but he’s got bullet holes in his shirt, and…” she reached over and fearlessly pulled his shirt open, exposing the flame-flickered skin of his chest.  “… no wounds.  And we’ll talk about the fire thingy later.  It didn’t burn me. As weird as that is, it doesn’t seem to be actually hurting him, either, that I can see.” Ella added with a quick grimace, “Unless he’s just used to it.”

“Used to burning…” Chloe shook her head. “I can’t imagine… He said it only burns the guilty, but he didn’t really answer if it hurt _him._ ” She continued shaking her head, shifting back to the mystery before her. “He saved me…  Pierce was going to kill him. He said Lucifer would never stop coming after him. I tried to stop him, I shot him, Pierce… Cain, he really was Cain… shot me.”

Chloe tapped her chest when she saw Ella’s eyes go wide.  “I have my vest.  I was knocked out, but still coming in and out, I think I heard the shots and Lucifer… screaming in pain … I think he sheltered us with his wings when Pierce… Cain’s men opened fire.  There were four of them, surrounding us from the upper level of the loft.  And then, next thing I knew, we were on the roof and he, he was looking down at me…” Chloe squeezed her eyes shut for a second, stopping her tears.  _No time for that now, we have to figure this out, how to help him._

“But I … dammit, I said something stupid, ‘we have to find Pierce,’ and he went back, alone.  I was talking to you two when I heard the shots… must have been when Cain shot him in the chest… these holes…” She stroked her hand across his chest, heedless of the flicker of flame across his skin, tugging at the bullet-ridden shirt.

“So… when he was down there _alone,_ he was invulnerable…” Ella said.

 _Click._ Chloe stared at her, and Ella stared back.

“Oh. My. God.” Chloe started shaking.

_That’s what he didn’t want to overload me with, when we were soaring far above the city._

_She remembered the oh-so-slight emphasis on ‘you’ when he said, “I didn’t know then you could hurt me.” Not humans in general, then._

_And farther back… “If it’s any consolation to your pride, it appears you make me vulnerable, too.” Then he disappeared for three weeks, and when she saw him again, he acted suspicious of her, even asking to see her back. “I want to know if you’re an angel, sent to destroy me.”_

“He told me.  He told me I make him vulnerable.  Oh my God, it’s _me._ ”

Chloe lifted her head, and actually howled at the ceiling, _at God?_ in a flood of emotions she couldn’t name, then leaned over again and took his face, heart-stopping in its masculine, terrifying, Hellfire-graced beauty, in her hands. 

“Oh, you idiot!  Why did you do it?  Why did you _stay_ with me?”

Immediately, she rocked back on her heels and jumped to her feet.  “I gotta go. I gotta go. Ella…” Dan stood at the door of the adjoining room, and she had no idea how long he’d been standing there. “…Dan, please, please take care of him. I have to get out of here, so he can heal.”

She sprinted to the elevator, punched the button and turned as the door opened. Ella was still kneeling beside Lucifer, and Dan was moving to his side.  Her gaze fell on the dying archangel, _her partner, Lucifer,_ stretched out on the floor, bleeding wings spread out around him.  She choked on a sob caught in her throat as the elevator doors closed.


	6. Burning Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe does what she must in order to help Lucifer heal.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Chloe felt how cut off she was from what was happening to Lucifer in the penthouse. It seemed like an eternity before the doors opened again just above the dance floor of Lux.  It was too early for the biggest crowds, but the lights and music were on, the dancers were swaying seductively to the beat, and the bartenders were ready for the night to begin.

Chloe sought out a familiar face at the main bar, as she sprinted down the spiral staircase. “Patrick!”

The handsome bartender turned, a smile on his face that faded when he saw her expression.  She tried to school her features to something other than flat out panic.  “Hey, could I use your phone?  I dropped mine somewhere.”

Patrick nodded, brows coming together in concern. He put down the rag he’d been swiping the dark wood of the bar with and reached inside his jacket. “Sure.  Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. All good.” She attempted a bright smile, drawing on her acting skills as she took the phone from his outstretched hand. “Um, I’m going to take this outside, okay? Can’t hear in here.”

“No problem,” she heard as she darted up the steps toward the door. Then she was running, out past the velvet ropes strung up where the crowd would soon be gathering.  She considered calling Dan, but punched in Ella’s number as she ran, and put it on speaker so she wouldn’t have to slow down with the phone by her ear.  She wasn’t sure how Dan was taking this whole thing, but Ella seemed to be handling it like a Christ-centered champ. She hoped Ella would realize it was her and pick up the unknown number.

She did.  “Chloe?”

“Yeah, it’s me.  Had to borrow Patrick’s phone.  Mine may have become a part of someone’s very bad day when I dropped it from, oh, I don’t know, maybe 30,000 feet?  How is Lucifer?  Is he healing yet?”

“Wow, okay…  He’s still breathing, so _that’s_ something. I don’t know let me, um, look at his wings… Madre de Dios, I can’t believe I just said that like it was just an everyday thing…”

Chloe hoped Ella wasn’t going to launch into a tangent.  “Okay, well, I’m going to keep running until you tell me something’s happening.”

_Another flash of memory.  “Do you trust me?” Lucifer’s dark eyes, so piercing, as he urged her to go after the Professor.  He had needed her to be away from him, so he could walk into the lab filled with lethal poison gas and save those kids._

How far away had she been, when she cornered the Professor? One block? Two?  At least she had some vertical distance clocked.  She glanced upward, her gaze taking in the stretch of the tall building, lit by floodlights, all the way up to the soft glow from the penthouse where her partner was lying in a pool of blood, dying.

 _If I can’t get far enough away in time…_ She pushed herself into her fastest sprint.

Her chest was aching, screaming at her to stop, but she couldn’t think anything but _Run! Dammit! Run!_

“Anything, Ella?  Has he stopped bleeding?”

Ella must have put her phone on speaker and put it by Lucifer’s head while she knelt near him.  The next thing she heard was him, calling, “D-detective?”

“Hear him?” Ella said.  “He’s coming in and out. I found a safe spot to check, near his body, fluffier.  Jeez, nobody ever taught me in Sunday school that archangel wings were _weapons_ with razor sharp feathers.  But that might explain the whole, ‘Fear not’ thing they always say, ‘cuz whoa, scary! Man, oh, man, poor guy must have over a hundred bullets in them.”  Ella was still in forensic mode, but as always, her heart was firmly set to compassionate.

“Ella…” Chloe panted, not slowing down, even as she blasted through a crowd of college age girls dressed to the nines and apparently headed for Lux.  “Has the bleeding stopped?”

“I think…something’s…” she heard Ella say, and then Lucifer’s rough voice, “Chloe? Where…?”

“Calm down, Lucifer, she’s okay,” Ella said to him. “Stay down, she had to leave, she’s letting you heal… Decker, I think you can stop now, this bullet hole I’m watching… It looks like the bullet is just… like… being expelled.”

Chloe stumbled to a halt, her lungs and legs burning. She brought the phone up before her eyes, as if she could somehow see what was happening.

She startled when Lucifer yelled, “Bloody Hell!” and she heard him choke off an anguished cry. Then, a harsh growl, “Miss Lopez, please, get back… Not… safe…” After that, it sounded like someone scrambling to pick up the phone.

And then Lucifer’s guttural snarl slowly escalated into a scream of agony, as if he were being shot again.

“Ella? What’s happening?” Chloe yelled into the phone.

“Chloe… uh, looks like bullets hurt just as much coming out as going in. Oh, man, poor Lucifer…”

Chloe stared at the phone, clenched in both hands, panting. Only then did she realize that tears were streaming down her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it doesn't annoy you all too much, but I keep going back and adding and editing. Made some changes in Chapter 5 that I think make it read a little more smoothly, plus added a flashback to one of my favorite scenes, when Chloe touched Lucifer's scars.  
> 


	7. Burning in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer's down, and Dan and Ella are dealing with their new reality.

As soon as Dan got Barrow seated in the other room, the jerk started in on him.

“So, you’re throwing in with the Devil, huh?  No surprise that a ‘corrupt cop’ would be _his_ bitch.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Dan growled.  He tried not to rush through securing Barrow’s feet, so he could tape his flapping mouth closed. He needed to make sure that the son of a bitch was secure this time. His own thoughts were hard enough to deal with without this bastard mouthing off. He knew he shouldn’t engage the guy, but it was really, really, REALLY tough not to respond.

_So, this is actually happening. Lucifer is THE Lucifer. The Devil._

His head felt like a crapload of bubblewrap was stuffed in his ears and around his skull, but nothing could keep that fact out. Hell was real. He had hoped that what Charlotte had been going through was only PTSD, but…

_Charlotte sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath. “Hey? Are you OK? Same nightmare?” he had asked her.  “Except this time you were in it,” she had answered, tears in her beautiful blue eyes._

Was she in Hell now? Was that why Lucifer didn’t tell them Pierce was the Sinnerman? Did he want her soul?

He finished with Barrow’s ankles, then came around to tape his mouth, but not before the bastard got one last dig in, barbed and arrow-straight to his heart. “Hey, you think Lucifer took Charlotte to Hell personally? Wasn’t that _nice_ of him.” Barrow said, hissing the word ‘nice’ like the snake he was.

Dan couldn’t take it.  He backhanded Barrow hard, snarling, “I said shut the fuck up!” then he slapped the tape over his mouth as roughly as he could get away with, his hands shaking as he yanked the man’s head cruelly.

He stepped back, breathing hard, and it felt like there was no air in the room. _Why in God’s name is the DEVIL here? And what does he want with Chloe???_

Flashes of memories, moments with Lucifer, started playing through his brain in reverse order, demanding to be placed in new configurations like some mad Tetris game.

 _Lucifer insisting, “It’s all true,” that Pierce was Cain, the first murderer, as Chloe was speaking to Pierce on the phone._ So, should he take that as the truth, then?  If Lucifer was the Devil, then was Pierce really Cain? It wasn’t lost on him that Barrow had obviously known Lucifer was the actual Devil. Why would his men believe that unless they had seen some crazy shit before? Like immortal, world’s first murderer shit?

_In quick succession, all the times that Lucifer leaned in to some suspect, boring down on them to pull out their deepest, darkest desires. Not hypnotism, not a parlor trick. A power of the Devil. And the other times in the field, when a perp, after being alone with Chloe’s civilian consultant, was found cowering, screaming over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” They begged to be arrested, just to get away from Lucifer, who stood calmly over them and spoke in dulcet tones of their remorse._

_He must have shown them those Hellfire eyes._

Speak of the Devil…

Dan turned, to find Lucifer standing in the doorway. Lucifer _, the Devil,_ paused.  He stretched out his arms to place burning palms on either side of the doorway as if to steady himself, his black jacket with its red pocket square pulling back to reveal the white shirt, riddled with bloodless bullet holes. His glowing, white archangel’s wings, now blood-streaked, were pulled close to his back, trembling, exposing his exhaustion and pain. The skin of his face still burned, shifting perpetually, framing his Hellfire eyes. He met Dan’s gaze for one second, and in that one second, Dan saw eternity.

There was nothing judgmental in Lucifer’s flame-shot gaze, but Dan felt condemned. A sudden, crushing weight settled on his chest. He knew in that moment with certainty that he was going to Hell. He found himself backing up, teeth bared in a rictus, as his heart thundered in his constricted chest. Now he knew exactly why the perps screamed when they saw those flaming eyes.

Lucifer dropped his gaze quickly. It was clear he had not meant to look into Dan’s eyes.

“Don’t let this miscreant wind you up, Daniel. Charlotte is in Heaven,” he said, quietly. “I strongly believe…” he started, then just faded out and blinked slowly with a little, exhausted sounding huff. He shook his head and crossed into the walk-in closet, then reappeared after a few seconds with a blanket. Saying nothing more, he headed back into the living area, carefully keeping his gaze averted.

Dan stood staring, unmoving. It wasn’t long after that he heard the crash of Lucifer’s fall.

* * *

Ella snatched the phone from by Lucifer’s head and scrambled to get out of the way when he told her, flame eyes wild, that being near him and his deadly wings wasn’t safe.

_Ooookay, dude, I hear ya!_

She leapt for the gold Italian leather couch and perched on the back of it, just as Lucifer groaned and slammed a red-soled heel against the floor, his back arching. Flickers of Hellfire skittered across his torso, bared when she had opened his shirt to look for wounds, and for a flash of a second, his skin went red and gnarled, like a burn victim. A burn victim from Hell. Literally. It was freaky in the dim light of the penthouse.

His wings splayed in a spasm that ejected a spray of bullets. The sound of them clattering on the floor was like metallic hail, a few at first, increasing to a crescendo, while Lucifer slowly lost his British jaw-clenched battle against screaming.

 _Dios mio!_ That’s _healing? But then again, I’m guessing he wasn’t really meant to be wounded like this in the first place._

Dan had been standing behind her when Chloe dashed out of the penthouse, but she wasn’t sure how much he’d heard of their conversation, and whether he knew was happening.  She had spared him a glance from her bullet vigil, but his face was blank with shock. He’d backed up too, now, never taking his eyes off of Lucifer. 

Ella had no idea what was going through that brain of his, but she suspected it wasn’t good. She knew they were both Catholic, but she didn’t know if he was practicing. His relationship with Lucifer had always been rocky, sometimes very, but there had been moments when they seemed to be at peace with each other, especially after Lucifer somehow got the formula for the antidote when Chloe had been poisoned. Even though Dan pegged him for the “dick move” Candy Crush escapade afterwards, he had been in Lucifer’s corner when Chloe was being pursued by Pierce. And then it hit her.

 _OMG, that’s right! Lucifer said Pierce was CAIN! The world’s first murderer! Wowy kazowy! We all know he doesn’t lie. The dude’s_ embarrassingly _honest._

She bit her lower lip as a sudden wave of nausea rolled in her stomach. _Man oh man, did I back the wrong horse. But really, I was hoping that sitch would push Lucifer to stop waffling, open up to Chloe and make a move already. Yeah, Lucifer’s THE Lucifer, but he’s been here for years, working by our sides in the LAPD to bring in killers._

_Killers like Pierce. Like CAIN._

Clinging to the couch back, one hand white-knuckling the leather and the other holding the phone, Ella stared at her friend, the Devil, writhing on the floor. She suddenly realized her eyes were dry, and her cartoon imagination posted a meme of her with her eyes popping out, like one of those crazy photo mod apps. If the sitch hadn’t been so Godawful painful for Lucifer, she might have laughed.  Then again, if she started, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think she wouldn’t stop, and they’d be hauling her hysterical butt off to a nice padded room.

Then her heart kicked in a crap ton of feels, when Chloe’s panicked voice came through the phone, _“Ella? What’s happening?”_ and suddenly her eyes weren’t dry anymore.

“Chloe… Uh, looks like bullets hurt just as much coming out as going in. Oh, man, poor Lucifer…”

The sounds that ripped from his tight throat broke her heart. _If he’s trying_ not _to scream, and he’s doing that? Oh. My. God. He must really be in agony._ The choked cries faded into a low groan, then, as the last bullet clattered on the floor, his body relaxed and he fell silent, his head lolling to the side.

Ella blinked a few times, her Rainman brain tallying up the bullet count. _103._ Her mind clicked through the numerology meaning, and she felt a little flutter of Presence in the message. It was Chloe, through and through, about her and for her, but this was another secret she could never see herself telling. 

She glanced skyward. _Really, Big Guy?_

Then, she cautiously crept toward Lucifer, snagging the black blanket he’d brought for Chloe and draping it over her elbow.  She knelt at his side, her knees slipping under the trailing feathers of his left wing, then reached carefully, through the still cracking flames that perpetually ravished but never consumed his flesh, to his throat. The flames licked her fingers softly, but there was no heat.

_This is sooo freaking strange._

His pulse was weak, but it was there, and it was steady. Relief sighed from her lips.

She put the phone by his head again and spread the blanket over him, and suddenly a memory popped into her mind. Lucifer was wearing the same suit he’d worn on their trip to Vegas to rescue Candy. Well, the same style, since Mr. Killer Bartender had put a bullet hole in _that_ suit. Nowhere near as many as Lucifer was sporting now.

The way he’d described every detail of his meeting Candy clued her in to his eidetic memory. She never said it, but she’d felt an instant bonding with him over their anything-but-normal brains. Although he had been appreciative of her “ravishing” disguise in the casino, she’d never had any doubt that his heart was loyal to Chloe. The whole adventure put him on firm brotherly footing, and gave her insight into how far he would go to protect Chloe, as misguided as his methods were at times.

From that moment on, he truly felt like the brother she always wished her own could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Chapter 7 is up! Sorry for the long delay, after all, I had Season 4 to absorb, plus the "bittersweet" news of Season 5. I'm still championing Season 6, but hope fades with every day, honestly. Joe and Ildy have to get the script written on a deadline, and they can either give us all a satisfactory ending, or leave another cliffhanger in hopes of S6. They're planning to give us resolution. As my father used to say, "It ain't right, but it's true." They have to deal with things as they are. My thinking is, even if they do end it, hey, we've got GOD as a character, He can always open S6 with an alternate universe. Change one thing, like he did in the end of S3. So unless there's NO hope, I'm gonna keep posting #LuciferSeason6!  
> 


	8. Burning Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Ella respond to Lucifer's devil nature in completely different ways.

The sound of Lucifer’s fall seemed to come from far away and have nothing to do with him, but he knew he just didn’t want to go out there and see him.  Then he heard Chloe howl – a sound he’d never even imagined coming from her throat.

He pulled himself out of his brain fog and headed to the door, just in time to see Chloe jump to her feet from Lucifer’s side. Sprinting out of the penthouse, she’d asked them both to take care of him, and said something about letting him heal. _How can she still care for him? The Devil?_

Dan watched the way Ella tended to Lucifer, _the Devil,_ and felt his stomach clench. Somehow, Ella had come to terms with Lucifer being the actual Devil a while ago, and it hadn’t stopped her from becoming his friend. Or perhaps he’d already weaseled his way into her heart before she had realized who and what he was?  Was he using some other Devil power on her that they didn’t know about?

That gut-wrenching certainty he had that he was going to Hell had not lessened.  Lucifer’s words, that Charlotte was in Heaven, didn’t ease the pain of knowing he would never see her again, even if he could believe Lucifer. And he really, really wanted to believe him, but … he was the Devil. The Prince of Lies.

And then he remembered how irrationally angry Lucifer had been over his relationship with Charlotte.

 _“You slept with my M-arlotte!”Lucifer had yelled, charging him and blasting them both through the Alhambra Triad's compound wall._ That was one memory that was not going away anytime soon.

Charlotte had told Chloe she was Lucifer’s father’s ex. So, she was once married to _God? Wait, was_ Charlotte _even human?_ There was a creeping paranoia sliding into his life – was _anyone_ what they seemed?

But Lucifer… After she’d fallen from the pier and suddenly acted like she didn’t know him, Lucifer had seemed completely fine with it, like night and day, even trying to console him that her callous behavior had nothing to do with him.

And then, she had seemed to want to _start over._ Start new… So many strange twists and turns in her behavior, but she was so lovely throughout. He remembered telling her in the bar when she had dragged him off to a more-than-three-martini lunch date, that he loved how weird she was. 

_She had been claiming an inside track with GOD._

_What the hell was going on?_ The one who could answer was the Devil, and he was passed out on the floor from the pain of taking a crapload of bullets _in his wings._ And why in the world did he do that? To protect Chloe? What kind of long con would involve _that?_  

Or… wait… Amenadiel was his brother… But Amenadiel hadn’t been seen, hadn’t been answering his phone since the night… that horrible night…

Lucifer had started to say something, and Dan suspected he hadn’t continued because even he knew Dan couldn’t believe anything he said now. But he wished Lucifer had. What was it he _strongly believed_ about Charlotte?

But then again… the Devil was eons old. If he wanted to play them all, his plans would be so convoluted, so long con there was no way they would ever see the endgame coming. Right?

That didn’t sound like the Lucifer he knew. Lucifer was in "in the moment" type of guy. And Lucifer had nothing to do with all the things Dan had done, like Palmetto, that he now felt like leaded weights in his heart, dragging his soul down to Hell.

Dan was just standing there, staring, and all he wanted to do was put his world back together in some way that wasn’t this fractured kaleidoscope of horror. But beyond that, he wanted some way to re-balance the scales, to get to Heaven, to see Charlotte again.

And then he remembered Malcolm.

_“You know what happens when you die? Well, if you’ve lived a life like I did, you go to Hell. In my case, it was a couple of seconds. Down there though, it was years… and years. There’s a door just for you, and inside, Hell uses what you love against you. For me, I love life -- everything about it. Got a hunger for it. So… they starved me, no food, no other people, no nothing. No TV.”_

_Dan had thought he was crazy. “Malcolm, you need help,” he’d said._

And now Malcolm’s answer haunted him.

_“Yeah, I do need help. Never to go back. So I made a deal. And all I gotta do is put a bullet in Lucifer…”_

_* * *_

Ella leaned over Lucifer, adjusted the edge of the blanket, and patted his chest. “You’re gonna be okay, buddy,” she murmured. “The worst is over.”  She sat back on her heels and watched the fire flicker over his body, up his throat and across his face, marveling.  How could the Devil look so peaceful, all passed out, with _actual Hellfire_ doing a jig across his skin?

It was unusual for her to miss _anything_ going on around her. That’s how she figured the whole sitch out with Lucifer so quickly.  Even while she seemed like she was completely focused on doing her job, her brain was wired to pick up all the deets, all around her, all the time, and that skill was punted into hyperdrive by growing up with four brothers who could be plotting some pin-tickle-loogie action for her at any time.

Some of those strange conversations Lucifer had been having with Chloe, that they thought she was ignoring, she caught.

Although she snagged Lucifer’s blood sample out of Chloe’s trash can, she didn’t run tests on it right away.  She’d been honest when she said that having faith without proof was an important part of her spirituality, so she didn’t know immediately, but she watched him. And his actions spoke louder than words.

Eventually, though, the deets added up and demanded that proof. It was like a playful little smack on the back of the head from the Big Guy. His Dad.

But now, she was so focused on the incredible sight of Lucifer in his halfway Hellish glory, she missed it, until it was too late. 

Dan made a weird little growl, and she looked up. The silver gun in his hands glinted gold in the low firelight ambiance of the penthouse.

Aimed at Lucifer.

It was instinct to shield him.  She lunged, arms splayed to cover Lucifer, twisting to face Dan. She didn’t think Dan would pull the trigger on _her._

She was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo sorry about the cliffhanger! I'm going to keep working on this and updating much more frequently, I promise! Hopefully I'll be back to a daily schedule, or close.
> 
> This scene actually surprised ME. I was struggling with how Dan would react, and then THIS happened...


	9. Burning in Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan makes a big mistake.

Chloe took the phone off speaker and put it to her ear as she walked a little further, aiming for a bus stop bench just ahead. Wiping her tears on her sleeve, she sat down, listening, leaning on one knee, hunched and hiding her face from passersby. She felt the grimace frozen on her face, her stomach churning at every sound that tore from Lucifer’s throat.  Finally his agonized cries softened to groans, then silence.

“You’re gonna be okay, buddy, the worst is over,” she heard Ella say.

Chloe took a deep, shuddering breath, and lifted her gaze to the purple hue of the L.A. sky, the stars hidden by the city’s lights. For once, it was not in an eye roll.

_God? Is this really what you want for your son?_

It was her first prayer, ever.

There was no answer, not in words, but an undeniable wave of an emotion so beyond anything she could name swept her, deeper than anything she had ever known. To call it sadness would be like naming the stars, candlelight. She was completely dumbfounded by the intensity of it.

But she didn’t have time to think about it, because the next thing she heard from the phone was Ella, yelling, “Dan! No!”

The shots were almost simultaneous. _One. Two three four five six._

*  *  *

Ella felt the bullet strike just under her right breast, and it felt just like the time she’d walked too close to the back of a burro as a child, at her uncle’s farm in Mexico.  The stupid donkey had just picked up his hoof and casually _dink_ \- WHAM! And she’d gone flying.

The force of the bullet knocked her backward across Lucifer’s body to _plumf_ in his right wing. At first it was just the slam of pressure, and she was aware enough to note that where she lay, the feathers _were_ fluffy, despite being blood spattered, and to watch as Dan continued firing into Lucifer’s chest. But then pain bloomed, overwhelming her horror, then amazement, as the bullets just disappeared when they struck him. No wound, no blood.  Like they were … unmade.

 _Oh. Right. He’s invulnerable now. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have jumped in front of him…_  

And then, her ghost friend Rae-Rae was suddenly behind her, leaning over her, her mouth wide in an O.  _And she had smoky grey wings that she quickly folded into nothingness behind her._ She took one look at Ella, then dove over her to tackle Lucifer, tangling fists in his lapels and screaming in his face.

“Lu! Get up! Get _up!_ You have to help Ella! _Now! My feathers don’t work the way yours do!”_

Ella tried to breathe, and suddenly found she was gasping, as if she were drowning.  _Is this it? Really? Oh, man, Dan’s gotta feel so awful… I hope Lucifer doesn’t kill him…_

* * *

Lucifer came out of a hazy dream of Hell, and found Hell had followed him out of the dream.

His sister, Azrael, was screaming in his face, something about helping Ella, there was a phone on speaker beside his head with the Detective screaming, “Lucifer! Ella! What’s happening?” and there was a fresh round of bullet thumps stinging his chest.

_Did that miscreant, Barrow, get free again? Snag a gun somehow?_

He sucked in a deep breath of air, shoved Azrael back with a quick “Sorry, sis,” and turned to look at the most pressing issue, which was literally pressing on his right wing. Miss Lopez.

Miss Lopez was curled up beside him, gasping, eyes wide as she stared at him, dark red blood seeping through the denim jacket she wore and quickly obliterating the irony of the word on her T-shirt.

_Special._

_And she was._ She was more like a sister to him now than his real sister, who he hadn’t seen in eons.  _And why was Azrael here, now, if not to collect poor Miss Lopez’s soul?_

He rolled toward her, his bedraggled but healing wing curling her closer to him until he was over her. As he turned, his left wing whipped over like a shield, instinctively, and slammed against the floor, supporting him as well. Planting his right palm over the leading edge of the wing she was snuggled into, he propped himself up, then snatched a soft feather from it with his freed hand.

“Luc…i…fer?” she whimpered, between gasps. She gazed straight into his Hellfire eyes, fearlessly. Guiltlessly. “Am… I… dying?”

Lucifer clenched his jaw for a second, startled to find his eyes threatening to spill over, but he didn’t lie.  “Yes. But I won’t let you.”

He pressed the feather under her breast, to her blood-soaked side.  The Light opened up from it, incandescent, slowly growing in radiant power until it lit up the shelter of his wings, luminous rays penetrating outward through the dimly lit penthouse.

And then, behind him, he heard the clatter of a gun hitting the floor. Suddenly, 180 pounds of furious Detective Douche rode his back, punching over and over into his kidneys.  Completely ineffectively.

Lucifer was surprised Dan kept going after the first punch. He was probably rushing on adrenaline, so didn’t even feel the broken bones in his hand.

“Get off her! Get off her!” Daniel screamed. “Don’t you dare take her soul! I didn’t mean to hit _her!_ ”

Daniel _did this?_

Lucifer resolutely determined to stay focused on Miss Lopez, even as he felt his rage rising.

Bad enough he was already burning with it, just under the surface of his skin, a constant reminder that he really was the monster humanity had always accused him of being.

 _Bloody Hell, I_ really _want to flay him right now._

But then, there were his wings. How grateful he was, _now,_ that he had managed to keep them. If he had lost them, Chloe would be gone. Ella would be gone. Both would be headed to the Silver City, where he could never follow.

Daniel was, as Miss Lopez would say, totally freaking out.  It wasn’t as if Lucifer didn’t expect it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had millennia of this twisted perception of him staring him in the face. Really, it wasn’t Daniel’s fault that he’d been raised in the Church that had swallowed and perpetuated these lies about him. He took a deep breath, and tried to understand what Daniel was seeing.

Once again, he felt the sting of guilt. It had been _his_ choice to reveal himself, tonight, in the middle of a hugely stressful situation for the humans.

Still, to try to murder him? And hit Ella in the process? The height of douchedom.

“Daniel, get… off… me! I’m not taking her soul, you idiot!  I’m keeping her alive!” he snarled over his shoulder, then returned his gaze to Miss Lopez.

The spunky little forensic scientist was looking up at him, dark eyes wide with wonder, immersed in the Light of his feather.  Her breathing was smoothing out, and the panicked look on her face was slowly transforming into a wide smile.  She looked like she had just got the best hit of Molly Lux’s bartender could offer.

“Luciferrrr…” she purred, pupils blown. “Oh… oh… you saved me. Oh… oh… wow… the Light… you are soooo beautiful… Your wing is sooo soft… Holy moly hermano … Best big brother _everrrr_ …”  She actually reached up and touched his cheek, heedless of the flames across his skin.

 _Oops._ Definitely high on Divinity. _And bloody Hell if I didn’t get a rush from hearing you roll the “r” in my name, little sister._ Even with Detective Douche still whomping away on his back and wrestling to put him in a choke hold whilst Lucifer kept his body locked immobile, he smiled.

_So glad you’re not leaving us just yet, dear Ella._

Like with Amenadiel, now there was no blood on her shirt or jacket, no bullet hole, either. Divine healing was a complete reversal. Lucifer had read everything humans had written on the subject, and the closest he’d found to the truth were those who claimed Divine healing and forgiveness were the same thing.

It made it like it had never happened.

 _Problem solved._ So he turned to the issue at hand. Or, rather, at back. 

“Daniel! Stop this absurdity!” he barked. “You’ll destroy your hands, and I’m _not_ giving you a feather for _that._   Didn’t you bloody hear her?  She’s _fine._ ”

The whomping slowly ground to a halt, like a wind up toy puttering out. Daniel still had his arm around Lucifer’s neck, and he could hear him panting by his ear.

“She’s … OK?” he said, wonder and puzzlement in his tone.

“Yes, Daniel. She’s just dandy.”

Lucifer started to carefully tug at the wing Ella was using as a Snuggie. “Upsy daisy, Miss Lopez.” Where she had landed was nowhere near the weaponized primaries, thankfully. His wings weren’t _always_ dangerous, but he was a bit… ruffled… at the moment. “Careful now.  Best if you crawl out _this_ way. Watch the bottom line of feathers, alright?” One arm was freed while his wing supported him; he swept it downward regally, smiling as if presenting the red carpet to a starlet.  “I can’t move until you do.”

Ella chuckled nervously.  “Oh. Right. Okay.” She tried to get up, bumped her head into his shoulder, apologized, then tried ducking under his wing. The whole process turned into a game of Twister, but she finally managed to crawl carefully across his pinned wing and avoid the lower edge of primaries.

Stunned, Dan peered over Lucifer’s shoulder at Ella whilst she navigated the wing. Lucifer followed her with his gaze as well, until she was safely clear. She got to her feet and looked around, obviously searching for something. Or someone. _For Azrael?_ His sister either was no longer in the room, or had retreated once again to invisibility. _Huh._

With Ella out of the way, Lucifer braced his freed wing against the floor and used both to push himself up to his feet, shrugging Dan off of his back roughly, forcing him to stumble backwards.

Lucifer pulled his wings in close to his back and whipped around to stare at Dan, furious. His wings were practically vibrating with barely contained rage. Dan blinked at him, whimpering, wetness shining in his eyes, his mouth twisted and his wrecked hands curled in front of him like a begging dog. Lucifer could _almost_ –

_What is this emotion? What would Dr. Linda call it?  Oh. Right._

Pity. Lucifer could _almost_ pity him.

“First you sleep with my Mum, and now you try to _murder_ me, Daniel. Not to mention nearly sending dear Ella off to the Silver City. Why the Hell would you _do_ that?”

On the floor at his feet, the phone squawked with the Detective’s voice. _“What???”_


	10. Burning Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer deals with Dan's betrayal.

Chloe couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Of course, the whole “slept with my Mum” thing was another bomb to be defused, but the rest…

_Dan tried to kill Lucifer? And shot Ella?_

If she had been a few steps closer when Dan had made his attempt on Lucifer’s life, Lucifer would be dead. “ _Not to mention nearly sending dear Ella off to the Silver City.”_ However nice the Silver City might be, that did _not_ sound good.

_Would Lucifer kill Dan, now?_

_* * *_

Ella watched Lucifer, praying that he wouldn’t kill Dan. Her divinity buzz bit the dust, swallowed by the rage in Lucifer’s eyes. She really thought he wouldn’t, that he was beyond that, but whatever happened with Pierce might just have pushed him over the edge.

Then Ella saw Lucifer blink at the sound of the Detective’s voice, suddenly reminded that she was listening to everything that was happening. This looked like a good time to interrupt.

His laser focus on Dan was further broken when she crept carefully forward, one palm up toward him, and knelt in front of him. The gesture called a fragile time-out, as she retrieved her phone.

He glanced down at her with those burning eyes, and a funny memory struck her.

_Soul Depot, bodies splayed around, and she was excitedly piecing together the murderous insanity of that weird case, a case that she had realized later had something to do with Lucifer and his celestially dysfunctional family. Using him as a model, she had knelt and wrapped an arm around his waist, repeatedly striking at him with an imaginary blade, demonstrating one attack. In her innocent dedication, she didn’t realize her face had been perilously close to his, um… junk._

_But he had. He hadn’t been able to resist turning the scenario into something lascivious. Smirking at Chloe, he put his hand on Ella’s head._

Somehow she knew he was remembering that, too, when she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, nearly a smile. But she could also see it brought a sting with it, too. Ella had no doubt that he cared for Chloe, and her, and even Dan, in spite of his “douchiness.”

And now Dan had tried to murder him, and in the process had nearly killed Ella. That had to hurt, and not just the sting of bullets that didn’t _exactly_ bounce off of him.

But something was going on with Dan, clearly to do with losing Charlotte. Surely Lucifer could see that?

Ella scooped up the phone and backed away, giving her head a slight shake, pleading silently with him not to kill Dan. She knew her fear was showing in her face, and she hoped he understood that she wasn’t judging him as the monster he seemed to be judging himself as. Because that had to be what the Smokey the Bear nightmare all over him was about, right? She just wanted him to know that she could forgive Dan for what he’d done _to her._ Forgiveness wasn’t Lucifer’s strong suit, though. It was barely in his vocabulary. _That_ was what she was afraid of.

Lucifer peered back at Dan and slowly stalked forward.

“Daniel, what drove you to attack _me,_ the Devil? What could you possibly desire?” Lucifer’s smooth, dulcet tones had an edge just under conscious awareness, and the power he was exerting in every word sounded in her head like the Star Trek Enterprise photon torpedoes firing.

_Poor Dan! He doesn’t stand a chance._

Dan fell into his gaze with a whimper. “I want … I want to be with Charlotte. In Heaven. But I know I’m going to… going to… Hell.  I’ll _never_ see her again.”

Lucifer cocked his head. His gaze flickered to the couch. It was the last place he’d seen Chloe before he’d passed out. Daniel seemed to be striking a chord with him.

 _Yay!_ Like counting cards, she saw the odds of Dan’s survival go up.

Dan went on, breathlessly, the dam bursting. “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, that she’s there, but… but Malcolm told me when he kidnapped me that he made a deal to never go back to Hell.  All he had to do was … kill you.”

 _Lucifer must have talked to him about Charlotte when he went to get the blanket._ _Well, that was decent of him. Too bad Dan didn’t really believe him._

Malcolm and that whole fiasco was before her time, but she’d heard some general gossip around the bullpen about it, and Chloe had filled in the blanks on a Tribe night. 

Dan had _really_ bombed on _that_ one.

“What?” Lucifer breathed.

“But if you’re lying, and she’s in Hell… I want to be where she is. So… go ahead. Kill me. Take me to Hell.”

Lucifer looked stunned. He dropped his dangerous gaze. She hoped he was putting it together.  Daniel’s attempt on his life had nothing to do with him, personally. Daniel thought someone in Heaven would give him a free pass for killing the Devil.

He hadn’t done it out of hatred for Lucifer, but for love of Charlotte Richards.

Ella held her breath, waiting to see if this would be enough to save Dan. Lucifer turned a quick glance her way, but his face was unreadable.

Gritting his teeth, Lucifer let out a low growl, slowly building to a full roar, and snatched Dan’s grubby jacket lapels, hoisting him up with one hand.

“Of all the complete and utter arseholes on Earth, you chose _Malcolm?_ _Malcolm’s_ footsteps to follow?” he snarled in his face. _“Malcolm broke his deal! With_ me _!”_ Lucifer gave him a rough shake, punctuating his words.

That’s _what he’s pissed off about?  That’s … not…_ _right. I know, his infamous pride, but really? What game is he playing?_

“GET OUUUUT!!!” Lucifer bellowed, and slung Dan toward the elevator.

Ella gasped.

Dan hit the floor in a perfect roll, and slid to stop exactly at the elevator doors.

She narrowed her eyes. Lucifer was _strong. Really strong._ She was sure he could have slammed him into the doors and broken every bone in his body, if he’d wanted. But even in his rage, Lucifer had calculated exactly where he would fall to roll and then slide to meet the doors without really hurting him. She was certain of it.

Dan had done just that, and stared back at him, face frozen in a grimace of abject terror.

“I’ll be gracious,” Lucifer growled, his bloody wings ruffling. “I will give you a ten second head start. And then I’m coming after you! RUN, DETECTIVE DOUCHE! Run like the Devil’s on your heels! _Because I am!_ ”

Dan scrambled up to hit the lift button, a look of horror on his face. When the doors opened, he practically dove into the lift and pressed his back to the far wall.

The doors slid shut, and Dan was gone. Dan, Lucifer’s friend, was truly gone.

Lucifer turned to her and heaved a sigh. Through the fire in his eyes, she caught the flicker of pain. His wings actually drooped a bit, the picture of dejection. “Bloody Hell. What a mess. Literally…” He glanced at the blood and bullets all over the floor, “… and figuratively.” His gaze followed Daniel’s path to the lift.

“Well, I’m a Devil of my word. _One…two… three… fourfivesixseveneightnineTEN!_ ” He took three quick steps toward the elevator, then swung back around as if in a do-si-do, blood-streaked wings flaring slightly with his movement. “Ah, drat, he’s long gone.  At least I gave it a shot.”

He shrugged and a somewhat strained and exhausted pirate’s smile pulled at the side of his mouth as he lifted a brow at her. Immediately, her shoulders went from grouchy _don’t-touch-me-I-bite_ blocks of tension to _loosey goosey all’s good happy huggies_ again. She hadn’t even known until that moment that she had been hunching them up, waiting for Lucifer to explode and tear Dan limb from limb, even as she hoped against hope that he wouldn’t.

“Oh, man, you had me going!” she laughed. “And I thought you _weren’t_ a method actor!”

Chloe’s voice came from the phone in her hands.  “Lucifer! What are you _doing?”_ Before he could answer, she went on. “Ella? Dan _shot_ you? But you’re OK? _”_

Lucifer dropped his gaze and spoke to the phone in Ella’s hands, back to his smiling self, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “She’s as perky as ever, Detective. My feathers have healing properties. And to answer your question, to the best of my ability, I’m attempting to fulfill Daniel’s desire. I’m trying to send Daniel to Heaven, to be with Charlotte.” He paused, raking a hand through his hair, apparently realizing how that might be taken. With a little birdlike cock of his head, which, even with the flaming eyes, was particularly endearing with his hair in its mussed state, he added, “Eventually.”

Ella noted how his eyes gentled, as if the phone in her hands was actually Chloe standing before him. For a moment, so close to him, she felt a twinge. _How wonderful it would be to have someone look at me like he looks at her!_ _Kinda complicated that he’s the Devil, but man oh man, does he have it bad for her._

“But, Detective… are _you_ all right?” he said.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” came her voice. “My chest aches a bit, but that’s to be expected.”  There was a silence as she gathered her thoughts. “Lucifer, I don’t understand. You’re… you’re _not_ angry with Dan?”

Lucifer scoffed. “Of course I’m angry with Dan!” He spat his truncated name with a sarcastic edge, as if it were an insult in itself. “I’m bloody furious with the Douche! He nearly killed our dear Ella!  And, well, more importantly, me. It would have been _quite_ satisfying to rip him in half, believe me. But I don’t want him in _Hell_.” He paused, deadpanned, “The place is bad enough without _him_ mucking it up.” 

Lucifer tightened his lips, then spoke more hesitantly. “If you want to come back, now, you can. I’m healed enough, for now. I can explain… things. If you want to.”

Ella saw that familiar glint of self-condemnation in his eyes, in his tensing posture. He was so afraid Chloe would reject him.

“I’ll be right there,” she said. “Since Dan… um, bailed, to say the least, I’ll be the one taking Barrow to the precinct.”

Ella saw the light in Lucifer’s eyes dim, as he took it that Chloe was only coming back because she had to.  _Jeez, Chloe, you sure can be clueless on the emotional sensitivity scale, at times._ She went into full _fluff-the-pillow_ comfort mode.

“Aw, Lucifer… Dan really mucked things up, but you’re doing the right thing, buddy! Your heart’s in the right place.  Bring it in!” Ella bounded toward him and wrapped her arms around him. He naturally responded by getting all awkward and prickly, which was particularly bizarre in his current flaming face (and chest, which had taken a bit of courage to push through her instinctive fear and put her face against) condition, but still cute to her. She could still feel him getting all gooey underneath.

“Miss Lopez, really…” he started, then seemed to melt just a tad, and his tone went from slightly affronted to truly appreciative. “You, dear Ella, are an absolute treasure.” 

She knew she’d broken through when she felt him pat her head, still awkward, but heartfelt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I'm late getting Chapter 11 up! I'm having computer problems. I need to buy a new one, but on disability income it's difficult. Microsoft just informed me that they're retiring my version of Word, but I will not be forced into buying a new Word version, even if I could afford it. So I'm using OpenOffice now.
> 
> But my computer is still threatening to die, so I need to get a new one. Just looking at ones in the range of $250, 2 in 1 laptop/tablets that I will only use for writing. Any suggestions?


	11. Burning Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe considers the fallout of Dan and Lucifer's conflict, and the consequences of her presence for Lucifer.

Chloe had a million things going through her head simultaneously, but she was good at prioritizing.  She started back toward Lux slowly, practically blind to everything around her as she mulled over her new reality. _Lucifer is THE Devil.  God is his Father. Heaven and Hell… are real._

She was going to need a huge debriefing from Lucifer.  Everything he’d said over the years, all the cases they’d worked, things needed to fall into place, make sense. She’d heard Dan say that Malcolm had made a deal to stay out of Hell by killing Lucifer. And then Malcolm shot him. 

_“I thought he killed you.” The only thing that had kept her from falling apart and melting in tears had been thinking of Trixie. She had to save Trixie. “Oh, he did. I got better,” Lucifer responded._

Malcolm _had_ killed him. 

_Because I make him vulnerable._

At that thought, she paused in her steps. _He stayed with me, even knowing that it could cost him his immortal life at any moment.  In a dangerous job like this, he stayed with_ me. The rush of cold that washed over her when she had been leaning over his prone form, his bullet-ridden wings splayed around him, and she had finally realized _why_ he could be hurt, hit her again like the clear splash of a Pacific wave.

Suddenly she was finding it hard to go any further. She was finding it hard to _breathe,_ with this new psychic burden on her chest. Now that she knew the sacrifice he was making by being in her presence, she felt the weight of _his_ mortality in _her_ soul. She didn’t like the feeling.  She had to go back to take Barrow in, though, didn’t she? But how could she consciously take a step into that danger zone for Lucifer?

Chloe heard Ella’s jubilant praise of Lucifer, a bit muffled. _Probably stuffed the phone in his feathers when she hugged him.  Under his wings. My partner has_ wings. _And Ella is totally okay with him being the actual Devil and, apparently, has been for a while?_

_Too bad Dan couldn’t have handled it better._

She had known Dan would not react well, but had no idea it would be _this_ bad. But what was Dan going to do, _now?_ She had a sudden sinking feeling.  _What if he is heading over to get Trixie and disappear, right now?_

“Lucifer, I’m worried about Dan. I’m afraid he’ll take Trixie and leave town.  I need to call the babysitter and tell her not to let Trixie out of her sight, not to let Dan take her.”

“Ah, right,” he answered. “I.. ah… Apologies, Detective. I didn’t have time to consider… that.  I hope you know, I would never hurt Beatrice’s father. Or the spawn herself. You may not understand this yet, but I did what I determined was best for Daniel’s _soul._ ”

Chloe felt a twinge of guilt. Her first thought on hearing that Dan had tried to murder Lucifer had been that Lucifer would retaliate in kind.  In lethally effective kind. He _had_ just killed Pierce, after all, though she knew it was morally if not legally justifiable homicide. Pierce… CAIN was a crime syndicate boss of mythical stature, and if Lucifer hadn’t taken him out, there would have been no peace for her and her family, her friends, ever. If Cain had been allowed to kill Lucifer and to walk away from that loft, he would have made sure they all died horribly, she was sure of that.  Especially since she had shot him.

Suddenly Cain’s rock collection had a completely new and sinister meaning. Didn’t he bash his brother’s head in with a rock, all those millennia ago? And here she had been so sympathetic when he talked about the Sinnerman killing his brother. 

So, no, she wasn’t putting any blame on Lucifer for killing _him._

And… _Oh dear God, I was willing to let that man near my daughter. What was_ wrong _with me? Trixie…_

But Lucifer, _the Devil,_ was apparently trying to keep Dan out of Hell, to salvage his soul. 

_Shouldn’t I be horrified that the Devil is… well, is prone to break into my house and gleefully cook breakfast for me and my daughter? Shouldn’t I?_

Remembering, she rolled her eyes and actually smiled. “Okay, Lucifer, I understand. Kind of. I … think. I’ll be there soon. Ella, call the precinct and get an update on the situation at the loft. I’ll call back after I talk to Olga.”

A young, blond man in a suit, not nearly as expensive as Lucifer’s brand, who happened to be walking by at that moment, gave her an odd look. 

It struck her that she had instantly compared his clothes to Lucifer’s.  Though she wasn’t anywhere near the brand name snob that Lucifer was, she realized that she had learned to appreciate the lean lines he presented when at his best. And he looked even better _oh my God I kissed the Devil_ when he was at his worst, somehow.

She focused on the blond man in the cheap suit. _Not a patron of Lux, then. This guy must have overheard me say “Lucifer.” Crazy lady standing in the middle of the sidewalk talking to the Devil._

Chloe gave him a hard stare. _It’s the City of Angels. And one Devil. Get used to it._ He kept walking, picking up his step a notch. 

“Got it, Decker!” Ella chirped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm late getting this out, and I apologize profusely. I blame the Beast, the evil computer! It appears my computer is dying. I bought a new 2 in 1 laptop/tablet, but when I tried to transfer my writing files over to it, I was told that my version of Word has been RETIRED. That's funny. I thought it was fine. But I have no choice but to pay for a whole new program from Microsoft. 
> 
> To Hell with that! So, rebel angel that I am, I'm leaving Microsoft and going to OpenOffice, an open source business suite. Thank you, Apache!
> 
> And yes, still in the habit of doing 2-3 page chapters. I will try to put out two a week from here on. I will aim for Thursday and Sunday.


	12. Burning with Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Ella discover a common thread, and Chloe returns to the penthouse.

Lucifer strolled out onto the balcony after Chloe rang off. She would be back soon, and be calling even sooner, she’d said.  He couldn’t believe the yawning ache in his middle at her absence, now.  

_Similar to the “fat man sitting on my chest,” but worse. How can so much doubt creep in, after I held her in my arms in flight?  It doesn’t take long for all the lies to invade--the lies that humanity has been ingrained with since its inception. Look what happened with Daniel._

_She has to have him in her life because he’s Trixie’s father.  What if he convinces her to see me the way he does? The way he_ must, _now?_

He was literally a hot mess, and he wanted to clean up and tuck his wings in, but he was afraid once he did, they would disappear forever.  His father appeared to have granted a reprieve, but he had only asked for leniency on Chloe’s behalf, and only temporarily. 

Smoking a cigarette at the moment was not appealing, maybe wouldn’t be ever again. It was an inside joke, a ritual that had reminded him of his power over fire. Every time he offered a human a light, he’d done it with his knowing smirk. _Lightbringer, my arse._

But now with Hellfire crawling all over his skin, that didn’t hold.  He wasn’t in control now. He couldn’t hold fire in his hand with impunity. The last time he had felt this out of sync with his despised Lightbringer power was when he had stood in this very spot, years ago, lost in an unfamiliar feeling, grief for the death of an unexpected friend. He hadn’t even been able to conjure up enough focus to make his lighter work, and it had been infuriating. 

Railing at his dad for the death of Father Frank had not helped. Only Chloe had brought his thunderstorm soul some measure of peace. The first time she had truly declared herself to be his friend. 

_Could that still be true, now? Now that she knows who I really am? She had to be with me when we fled from the loft, but now?  Will she choose to be my friend? Or … more?_

Only the other night, when he had tried once again to make her believe, to trust that he actually was the Devil, the way she had looked at him and whispered, “Not to me,” haunted him. He had tried so hard to tell her, to show her who he really was, but when she looked at him the way she did, he couldn’t resist the appeal of her caring eyes, her soft lips. That one kiss was worth more to him than every sexual encounter he’d ever had in his long life, and he remembered every single one. When she had kissed him before, on the beach, that kiss was of course precious to him, too.  Their first. But he had been surprised and confused. Having just come to the conclusion that she was right not to want him as a romantic partner, he hadn’t been able to fully trust her response to him.

But now, he wondered again, if he would rue that kiss soon.  He was relieved of any guilt in that nothing had gone farther between them while she was clinging to her innocent perception of him, but she still must be horrified that she had kissed the Devil. Twice.

And there was something strange that had happened when she looked into his eyes, far above the world, something that he’d never experienced before.  It was as if she had offered him her guilt, her sin, and he had burned it away. Something more, even, a connection -- he had a glimpse of something in her mind, a … dream? Perhaps?

_Wild, joyous abandon, touching her, her skin silky smooth and warm under his hands, her hands on him, wanting him…  He saw himself through her eyes, a wicked smile and … horns? Her knowing that he was the Devil, and still wanting him…_

A different kind of heat flooded through him with this vision, flaring in his loins.  

Miss Lopez chose that moment to join him on the balcony, moving up on his left. He retained enough of his shameless sexuality and “inappropriate” jam to not flinch, not shift, not hide, even though there was a flicker of the same feeling he had when his mum walked in on him playing with a lady friend, with red candles. He was leaning on the balcony, his right leg cocked forward.  Pretty obvious. Maybe she wouldn’t notice.

“Well, I called the pre--” she started. He caught the flicker of her gaze across his body, downward.

He should have known. Ella didn’t miss anything.  She sputtered and coughed, her face going red immediately, whatever she had been about to say blown totally out of her head. 

_Well, I am impressively endowed, after all._

“Um, dude… Well, I guess that answers one question. I’m guessing that flamey stuff all over you can’t be that painful if you’re … um… thinking along _those_ lines…”

Lucifer smirked. “Actually, I am _quite_ adept at shifting pain to pleasure.”  

He turned toward her and waved a hand downward, indicating his upper body, flickering with flame. “ _This_ is nothing more than a faint reminder of the day I Fell.  My… guilt. Yes, it burns, but nowhere near as bad as _that_ day. But that has nothing to do with _this._ ” He dropped his hand further down with a shamelessly wicked smile, indicating his now fading arousal, relishing the little scientist’s blazing blush. Relenting, he went on in a more serious tone.  “Something… unusual… occurred whilst the Detective and I were…” He directed his gaze upward, and his healed but ragged and blood-stained wings fluttered at the memory of flight.  

“I’m not one to kiss and tell, and I assure you, there is nothing _physical_ to tell, but perhaps Chloe shared something with you on a Tribe night about a … hmm… dream?” He gave a little upward flicker of an eyebrow and a hint of his sultry smile.

Miss Lopez’s face went slack for a moment, then bloomed with a slow grin. “Oh, _that_ … That was just before Chloe was poisoned, right?  No, she didn’t tell us, well, she tried not to but Maze… you know how she pulls stuff out of you, you know what with being a _demon_ and the whole liking _torture_ and all. She just had to know what the whole…” She put her hands up, miming horns and an “O” face, “...thing was about.  She said she heard Chloe scream, went in the bedroom to see if she was okay and broke out the popcorn to watch the show. Embarrassed the bejesus out of poor Chloe. Terrible timing, too, since you were AWOL at the time.” 

Miss Lopez got even redder. “I get it now.”  She put up her hands as if warding off his naughty thoughts, smiling sympathetically.

“You know, I saw how Chloe and Dan tended to shrug off things you were going through, but I knew that what was important to you was really important. Like, cosmically important. I suspected who you really were since day one, but I’ve _known_ since I took a look at that blood sample Chloe threw away.  And really, dude, your … Light … it's a little muddled, but still pretty freaking hard to ignore.  So I’m not going to act like what you’re focusing on is an annoying distraction from _my_ so important stuff.” She gave him a very direct look, pursing her lips, then cocked her head.

“So, she told you about _that_ dream? Why is this what you’re thinking about, _now?_ ”

Lucifer focused on her without concern that she would suffer from his gaze. Miss Lopez was incredibly intelligent and insightful, as well as incredibly pure, even after being a car thief.  

“No, she didn’t _exactly_ tell me.  It _is_ important, though, and not just for what it means for… us. What’s important is the fact that I saw it in her mind.  And I burned away the guilt she associated with it, painlessly, for her. That’s never happened before, with any human soul. I have to wonder if I have been capable of this all along. And...maybe… I can use it to help Daniel?”

Ella nodded, suddenly enthusiastic. “Yeah! That would be a-maze-balls! And you know, that could be incredibly important, in Hell. Dude… you could change _everything._ ”

He hummed, thoughtful. “Yes. Well.  I suppose that’s for another day. I’m no longer the King of Hell.  Retired, remember? So… what was your news that I so sinfully distracted you from? Oh, and for the record, sex is only a sin if you do it wrong.” He grinned, and he was amazed that his Hellfire demeanor still seemed to have the desired effect.  She gave him a blushing pirate’s smile and a hint of an eye roll that came off more as a flutter of her lashes.

“Right. Okay. Well, the precinct said that Pierce’s men, a/k/a Cain’s men, fled the scene rather than put up a fight.  Apparently they were after you and Chloe and weren’t interested in tangling with the LAPD. The uni’s, um, uh, found, um, Cain’s body…? I’m guessing that… was … you? Chloe didn’t say… just that Cain wanted you dead because you would never stop hunting him, and you went back to face him alone. She feels really bad about that, by the way, kinda blames herself.” Miss Lopez added this last as if it was something he might want to talk with the Detective about, then shrugged as if to say it was just a suggestion, and finished her debriefing.

“There was no murder weapon.  They commented on the bloody feathers everywhere, but of course they had no clue what _that_ was about.”

He crossed his arms over his body and reached into his lower inner jacket pockets, pulling out Maze’s knife with a little flair spin and the Detective’s gun.  “Before the Detective came down from the roof, I had the presence of mind to clean up a bit. I wouldn’t want either Maze or the Detective implicated in something _I_ am at fault for. I am quite incensed at Mazikeen, but I only punish the guilty for what they’ve _actually_ done.”  He turned from the balcony and walked over to place the gun and the Hell-forged blade on the table between the two chairs where he had once had a short lived moment with the Detective. _Burgers and fries, no ketchup._

He smiled slightly, coming back to lean on the balcony. Miss Lopez held him in her gaze, expectant, and he nodded, humming an affirmation, his smile disappearing. “And yes, you’re right. I killed Cain. I’ve never killed a human before, despite the whole Job thing.” He glanced upward. “It’s against Dad’s rules. Angels cannot kill humans. With the exception of the Angel of Death, but that debacle in Egypt was a one off. Rather nefarious, if you ask me. I’m not very happy with my sister, since I haven’t had a peep out of her since I Fell.  Until tonight. But even I can sympathize on that score. Must have been intolerable for poor Rae-rae.”

Miss Lopez spun from the balcony to face him directly. “Rae-rae?” she almost shrieked.  “She’s your sister? I saw her! Here! She… she had grey wings!”

Lucifer was stunned.  “I thought… I _saw_ you looking around, after you departed from my wing. You _were_ looking for her! You _saw_ her?” 

“Yes! I’ve seen her since I was a kid.  Eight years old, when I was in a car accident. She told me she was a ghost.” Ella was so distraught that she lunged at him and grabbed his lapel as if she were clinging to her last hold on reality, and he was her lifeline to the truth. “She’s not, though, is she? _Is she?_ ”

Lucifer stood up straight, gazing down at the petite scientist, dead in the eye. “ _I_ won’t lie to you. No. She’s not. She _is_ my sister. Azrael, the Angel of Death.”

*** 

When Chloe started back again, after checking in with Olga, she was reassured until she saw Dan blow by, going way too fast and heading toward her apartment, not his.  She rang Ella’s phone again.

“Hey, Chloe.  What’s the scoop?” Ella sounded so good, though she also sounded a little shaky. It wasn’t lost on Chloe that she might not have ever heard her voice again, if Lucifer hadn’t saved her.

“I called Olga, but I’m still worried.  I just saw Dan tearing by. Not headed to his apartment, headed to mine.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Listen, Lucifer has something he might be able to do to fix it. Something he learned with you, actually. We might need to get right on it, looks like.  And man, Chloe, I’m getting hit with stuff like six ways to Sunday…” She lowered her voice to a whisper, but Chloe suspected that if she were anywhere near Lucifer, it wouldn’t matter. “But listen, Chloe, it’s really critical.  I know it’s none of my beeswax, but you need to go easy on Lucifer. Don’t you get how important you are to him, yet?”

Chloe blinked. She couldn’t respond to that. “Okay, I’m almost there.” She headed past the velvet ropes with a nod from the big guy guarding the entrance and glares from the patrons in line down the block, waiting to get into Lux. “Gonna drop Patrick’s phone back with him and be right up.”

The beat from the music thrummed in her chest, the lights flickered like stars overhead and the sultry silhouettes spun against the contrasting cool blue embedded in the dark overtones of the packed club, tempting, forever out of reach. The song was familiar, the refrain of “Reckless” pounding in her head. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was what she was being, running to the Devil. But somehow she couldn’t regret it, either.

She slid the phone across the bar with a grateful nod, the music now too loud to speak. The brown haired, brown eyed, dark skinned and so sweet bartender caught it with a smile and a wink, and she headed up to the elevator.

The sudden quiet, punctuated only by the muted beat of the music, left her with too much to think about, and the ride up seemed to take forever.  Finally the ding as the doors opened on the dimly lit penthouse released her from her limbo. 

Ella and Lucifer were out on the balcony.  Lucifer glowed eerily, both from his body and his wings, and the mixture of Hellfire and Holy Light that he shed illuminated Ella’s profile until she turned to face Chloe.

Her throat closed on a lump suddenly, seeing them.  It could so easily have gone the other way. If Dan had made his move seconds before, she would be walking in on their bloody bodies.

Out of all the confusion, chaos, paradigm wrecking melee of emotions she was feeling, the one that emerged victorious was love. They were alive and well, and the partner she had nearly lost, Lucifer, fallen archangel, was the one who had saved her friend, Ella.

She ran across the room, and as she got closer she saw what a beautiful mess he was, even under the Hellfire dancing across his chest, up his throat and across his face.  His hair curled down across his forehead, his skin still shifted like molten lava around his burning eyes. The bullet ridden shirt hung open to his waist and at his back his wings still looked wrecked, feathers stained with blood and misaligned, though they appeared whole, now.  

Lucifer’s flaming eyes looked haunted, questioning.  Ella stood beside him, her mouth open in a hopeful smile.

“Chloe…” His voice was soft, her name precious on his lips. “I mucked things up. Again. I’m so--”

He sounded like a little boy caught standing over the shards of a broken vase, too honest to deny what he’d done.

Chloe scoffed, interrupting.  “Oh, shut up, you big doofus.”  

She closed the distance between them and flung her arms around him, snuggling under his chin. “I’m just glad you’re alive. Both of you.”  She reached out and made a grabby hand at Ella, pulling her in, turning it into a group hug.

"Yeah, I knew you were a hugger," Ella murmured, her eyes closed in bliss as Lucifer lowered his cheek to Chloe’s hair, awkwardly patted Ella’s, and folded his wrecked wings around the two of them.

***

It turned out Azrael wasn’t done for the day with Lucifer’s friends. A countdown started at two minutes. A name popped in her head.  

_Daniel Espinoza._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, Chapter 12! I was going to try going even longer, but I wanted to get something out for you. Can't resist a cliffhanger now and then.  
> Still having issues with this new computer and I'm beginning to wonder if I should return this one, too.  
> I love that song, "Reckless," from the show! Had to give it a mention, here.


	13. Burning Down the Boulevard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael reaches out to Lucifer on Dan's behalf. Lucifer responds.

Lucifer had half expected the Detective to walk into the penthouse without a glance his way, head straight for Barrow and perp walk him to the lift. The doors would open for her, she would step in, then they would close on her and that would be the last he ever saw of her.  That was the dreaded vision that kept running through his head after she’d said she was coming back for Barrow.

Even now, holding these two precious women close to him, he could hardly believe his fortune. The moment was sacred, sweet beyond measure, and like nothing he had ever felt in his immortal life.

He felt the flames of his guilt waver for a moment, calming...

These women were _truly_ good. He couldn’t help but feel undeserving. 

_I’m the Devil. How can they possibly care for me? I just killed a man..._

With that thought, the Hellfire shivered tendrils into his soul, again. A ghost of unease traced tremulous fingers down his spine, disturbing the sweet peace they offered him, the peace that he reflected back to them in the encircled Divinity of his wings. 

Peace, for him, seemed destined to always end too soon. A phone call, an interruption from a well-meaning co-worker...

 _“Lu!”_ Azrael shrieked in his head.

Or a desperate prayer from an angelic sister.

***

Dan didn’t know it, but the Angel of Death was riding shotgun.  And she was freaking out.

And praying, but not to God.

 _“Lu!”_   Rae-rae felt her brother’s mind connect immediately, listening intently to her prayer.

_“Listen, you know I’m really not supposed to directly interfere when a soul pops up on my radar.  I’m just going to tell you that I’m in Daniel’s car. He just got the two minute warning. Not really sure what you think of him right now, considering he just tried to kill you, but you might want to tend to him personally? Kinda looks like a crash and burn is imminent.”_

_“Um, the back seat is empty. Currently? Hint, hint?”_

***

Chloe felt Lucifer stiffen.  He raised his head from hers, and when she looked up to see what was wrong, he was staring into the distance like an eagle sighting a hunter with his gun trained on him.  His wings pulled back, flaring slightly.

“Bloody Hell,” he growled, his lips pulling into a grimace of disgust. “I haven’t even got a shower, yet! I’m damn well knackered!”

“What’s wrong?” Chloe glanced at Ella, and the two of them pulled back from their embrace, reluctantly. Her own confusion was mirrored in the young scientist’s face.

“Azrael. She’s praying to me.  Not a peep in eons and now I can’t get a moment of… peace.” His gaze flitted between the two of them and his stumble over the word hinted at how precious that moment had been.

“Azrael? Praying to you? Who--?”

Lucifer cut in quickly. “Miss Lopez, perhaps you could fill her in? There’s no time… It seems our distraught Daniel is about to douche himself to death--” He gritted his teeth as if to stop the words, too late. 

“Oh dearie me, I have to stop _doing_ that!  I’ll never get that image out of my head!” He turned his Hellfire gaze to her, bringing his hand to her cheek in a quick but soft caress.  “My dear, I’m afraid I’m about to make a very public display of affection for your ex. I’ll be back.” 

With that, he snapped his wings out to full extension, crouched, leapt upward, and disappeared completely.

***

Dan could hardly think with the buzzing in his head.  It sounded like a twister roaring toward him, but never arriving and never departing. The only coherent thoughts that managed to get through the cacophony were no comfort, and they were repeating on a loop.

_Lucifer Morningstar is THE Devil.  I tried to kill him. And I failed. Lucifer Morningstar is THE Devil. I tried to kill him. And I failed…_

Dan had the lights going and the siren on, though he knew it wasn’t like it was an emergency he could call in. He just needed to get Trixie and disappear. 

When he caught a glimpse of Chloe on the street, he knew something was wrong with her. She was heading _back_ toward Lux. _To the Devil._

That broke him out of his loop, at least. His focus returned to his daughter.

_It’s up to me.  I have to get Trixie away from him. Trixie doesn’t have a choice. Her mother does.  Maybe I can talk to her later, but now… I have to get Trixie out of here._

He was grateful for the siren and lights when his route took him straight down Hollywood Blvd with its crazy crowds and traffic, bustling and busy on this Friday night.

And then he heard a familiar sound, like the flutter of a parachute.  He’d heard it in his office the day that Lucifer and Amenadiel had just… disappeared.  His gaze snapped to his rearview mirror.

Lucifer’s eyes burned back at him from the darkness.

***

Just like his brother Amenadiel had done so many times, often just to be pestered by his little brother, Lucifer focused on his sister’s prayer, and used his wings to zero him in on her location, jumping dimensions to land close to her. It wasn’t, however, something he could do while carrying a human.

He found himself crammed in the backseat of Daniel’s car, barreling down Hollywood Boulevard.  His sister stared back at him from the front seat, brown eyes wide in her childlike face, framed by her glossy black pageboy.  

His wings couldn’t possibly fit, so they flickered in and out of the Earth plane, shunted through the doors and visible from the street.  A street filled with people with camera phones up and running.

_Oh my Dad. If you’re not supremely pissed off at me yet, you will be now. Talk about revealing Divinity!_

When Daniel met his gaze in the rearview mirror, he made a sound just like the one Lucifer had heard from Carver Cruz when Lucifer tapped him on the shoulder in that factory long ago, the night the Detective shot him in the leg.  Not the manliest of exclamations.

His invisible (to Daniel) sister, the Angel of Death, said, “One minute!” She wasn’t calling for a time out. 

_Right-o. Nothing for it but to dive right in._

“Daniel! Stop this vehicle this instant!” Lucifer barked.

Daniel stared at him for a moment, then tightened his lips.  He slammed his foot down on the gas instead, and the car lurched forward, the engine roaring.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, then addressed his sister. “Up or down?” he queried.

She glanced at Daniel, reading his soul. “I’m sorry,” she grimaced.  “Down.”

Lucifer gave an exasperated huff.  “Like Hell he is. Not on my watch.” 

Daniel’s eyes flickered as he recognized the familiar term. _Maybe he’s remembering that bonding moment we had over the Body Bags movies?_

His face scrunched in puzzlement as he glanced to his right. “What?” he breathed. “Who the Hell are you talking to?” 

“My sister. Daniel, hitting the gas might be a good plan if I were a human carjacker, but I’m not.  I’m immortal. You’re the only one in this car that will die if--when--we crash. Besides, I’m here to save your ungrateful arse.”

“Save me?” His voice came out in a squeak.  “You want to kill me!”

“Forty-five seconds,” Azrael interjected.

Lucifer scoffed. “No, Daniel, I don’t.  If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already. You do realize that, don’t you? I could have popped in and slapped your head off anytime.”  Lucifer glanced to the side, out the window. Cars were pulling out of the way, people were pointing and yelling. And yes, they were pointing camera phones.  

Lucifer couldn’t suppress a bit of annoyance, and to his dismay he found his wings lighting up with flickers of fire in response. 

_Like I’m not a flashing neon sign already. THE DEVIL IS HERE. RECORD IN FULL COLOR VIDEO! PUT IT ON THE INTERNET! DIVINE FREAK SHOW IN PROGRESS!_

“But… You’re the Devil!” Daniel exclaimed, as if that explained everything.

Lucifer sighed.  “Yes. I am. And I’ve always told you that. But I’m not your enemy, Daniel. I… think of you as a friend, actually.” Before his tone could get too sappy, Lucifer snarked, “When you’re not determined to condemn yourself to eternal douchedom.”

“Thirty seconds,” his sister intoned.

“All right, I get it!” Lucifer snapped.   “A little help here, sis? Maybe you could vouch for me or something?”

She just looked horrified and shook her head spastically, grimacing. 

“Oh, come on! You’d do it for Miss Lopez, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, and I’m probably already going to get spanked for that!  I can’t reveal myself to _him,_ Lucifer!” Azrael reached out and put a hand on the dashboard, a reminder that in a few seconds that same dashboard might just be crumpling into his lap in the back seat. 

Lucifer uttered a sharp growl of annoyance and shook his head. “Oh, and believe me, sis, we _are_ going to talk about that. At another time.”

His gaze snapped to the digital speed readout. 75 MPH. Down Hollywood Boulevard, where the speed limit was 25. With lights flashing, siren wailing, and the Devil on fire, wings flapping out the windows in the back seat for all to see.

“Fifteen seconds, Lucifer,” Azrael said, panic creeping into her voice. Even though she was the Angel of Death, she wasn't usually riding shotgun at the moment of it.  

“Daniel. Stop. The. Car. Please.” Lucifer said.

“I don’t believe you.  You have to be lying. You _have_ to be.” Daniel was on the verge of tears, but he wasn’t letting up on the gas.

“Ten.” 

“Daniel, you are about to crash…” 

“Nine.” 

“...and burn, and I don’t just mean…” 

“Eight.” “...in a car wreck.”

“You’re lying!” Daniel screamed at him. 

“Seven.” 

“Get out, Lucifer! I’m…”

“Six.” “...taking my daughter!” Daniel yelled. “Far away from _you!_ ”

“Five.”

“At least I tried! I tried to kill the Devil!”

“Four.” Azrael’s face was ashen. 

“That’s got to count for something!”

“Three.”

“Bloody Hell,” Lucifer huffed.

“Two.”

_“Time to go, sis! Leave him to ME! NOW!”_

The last words reverberated from his throat in King of Hell command tone, his last reserves of patience gone. Time seemed to slow as his celestial mind sped up, as he sped up.  He didn’t have Amenadiel’s power to affect time, but he could control his own perception of it as he went into hyperdrive.

Azrael shot him a wild look and leapt up through the roof of the car, veering off to the right, her grey wings flaring. The last glimpse of her, he saw she was wearing a black cut off jeans skirt and a T-shirt with a line of cat butts on the back, fluffy tails up.  _The front must have the cats’ faces?_

Lucifer focused eyes front. He spotted the bus full of people ahead of them in the intersection, close enough (for him) to see their eyes wide and their mouths open through the windows. 

He couldn’t save Daniel and let the car go, or a _lot_ of those innocent and not so innocent people would die, and they damn well knew it.

Lucifer snapped his fire-streaked, blood stained wings, calling on their Divine power, and lunged forward, shifting _through_ the front seat.  He hooked Daniel under his arms, launching them both upward and forward, metaphysically through the roof of the car.  Daniel shrieked, terrified, legs dangling as Lucifer flew just over the car, pacing it. 

Flipping a screaming Daniel under his left arm, Lucifer dipped back down and smashed his fist through the roof, grasped the edge of it with his right hand and thruuuuuust with his flaming wings, up, up, up.  He _roared,_ drawing on his infernal power as he hauled the thundering car, lights flashing, siren shrieking, engine revving and wheels spin-screaming as they left the ground, up and over the bus full of terrified people and into the Hollywood sky.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep to a Sunday and Thursday posting schedule. I hope you enjoyed it! Almost got it posted on Thursday, but it's a little after midnight.
> 
> ***  
> 8/5/19 So sorry! I missed my Sunday posting deadline for Chapter 14! I had an unexpected guest yesterday and it threw me off a bit. I will try to get it finished and up today, but that will be unbeta'ed.
> 
> ***  
> 8/7/2019 Here it is, Wednesday, and I'm not finished. It's going to be a long chapter, so I hope that makes up for skipping the Sunday posting. Just waiting for some feedback. I have two versions at the moment, so I'm trying to decide which way to go with a scene. Dramatic or humorous? Or combine them and start humorous, end dramatic?


	14. Burning for a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer deals with Dan's misguided betrayal. Chloe and Ella follow Lucifer's display of power through social media.
> 
> Lucifer explores his newly discovered ability and its consequences.

Ella must have stared slack-jawed at the spot in the air where Lucifer had just blinked into nothingness for a full thirty seconds before she turned to see Chloe doing the same thing.

“Whoa. Mind blown. Right?” she said.

Chloe nodded slowly, still staring up at the purple muddled sky where the stars were mostly obscured by the light pollution of the City of Angels.  

Finally she spoke. “He could have done that at anytime. He could have left me at the loft instead of getting his wings Swiss cheesed! I wonder what else he can do that we have no clue about?”  She paused thoughtfully, biting her lip.

Then she turned to Ella.  “Okay, Ella, spill. Who is Azrael, what does she have to do with Dan, and how long have you known the truth about Lucifer? Why didn’t you say anything to anyone?”

Ella blanched, grimacing. “Oh. Funny thing, that. That’s all kind of tied in together.”

Chloe lowered her head a bit like a bull about to charge, narrowing her gaze. “Keep going.”

_Yeah. I didn’t think she’d like me keeping this to myself._

“Okay, well, see, I was in an accident when I was eight.  A really bad one. That was the first time I saw Rae-rae, um, Azrael, and she told me she was a ghost. But seeing and talking to a ghost kinda made me a pariah, you know? Lots of teasing and problems with my family and I even had one doctor put me on some really nasty drugs.  So I told her to stay away when I came here. I wanted a clean break, a new beginning.”

Chloe was nodding, her expression softening as she listened. 

“Then I started working with all of you, and you’ve got a partner who talks about being the Devil and… Well, I had reason to maybe believe him right off the bat.  There’s kind of this … Light… I can see in some people. Lucifer’s got it in spades. Not like Charlotte did, when I first met her, but similar. Anyway, then you came to me on that first case and started asking questions about faith and angels and the Devil, and that was another Tetris, so I was keeping an eye on you. The clincher was when I saw you throw away that blood sample. Didn’t take a genius to figure out whose blood it was, after hearing all the stories about what happened with Malcolm. Sorry, but curiosity is kinda what makes me a scientist, you know? So I kinda... took it out of your trash.”

Chloe lifted her brows at that.

Ella nodded. “Yeah.  I didn’t look at it right away.  I guess I was a little scared to know for sure, too. So I just watched Lucifer, got to know him for a while. I figured there has to be a reason the Big Guy put me here, and after watching Lucifer, I thought maybe it was to show him a little Christ-centered love. I mean, why _else_ me? If he was as bad as he’s been made out to be, you’d think the Big Guy would set a ninja hero on him or something, right?  Not _me._ ” At that point, Ella couldn’t help a little nervous laugh at her own logic.

“And what I told him when I met him was true, I really did feel like he got a bad rap from the beginning. Of course, when I said that, I didn’t know I was talking to the _actual_ Devil in question. But that doesn’t make me love or trust the Big Guy -- wow, his Dad -- any less. I think humanity is more to blame for that, really. I mean, the symbol they stuck him with is literally a scapegoat, right? I just think there’s some pretty complicated family dynamics going on. Like celestially complicated.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. I haven’t really even _started_ to process all that, Ella.” Chloe’s eyes flickered, as if she were thinking about something extremely profound.

“What?” Ella prompted.

Chloe shook her head. “It’s just… I felt something earlier…” She bit her lip, considering. “Maybe later we can talk about that, but… go on.”

Ella nodded. “Oookay. Well, I think what gave me the courage to finally look at that blood, other than a _lot_ of praying, was seeing how Lucifer looked at _you,_ to be honest. He didn’t know I was watching, so it’s not like he was putting on a show. I realized I wouldn’t be afraid even if he really was the _actual_ Devil, because, well… you know. You know what I’m saying, right? It gives me hope.”

Chloe lowered her gaze, closed her eyes for a second, then raised them to the spot where Lucifer had disappeared. It was hard to know what she was feeling, but she seemed a bit overwhelmed.  She was actually trembling a little.

_After everything she went through with him, then turning to Pierce -- Cain -- and now to know Lucifer’s been telling the absolute truth the whole time? I can’t even imagine. I really thought Lucifer wouldn’t let it go that far. I thought it would push him to step up to the plate, really. But he would have sacrificed his own happiness just to let her be happy, even if it was with someone else. Poor guy really has a lot of self-hatred, to think for even a second that Cain could be better for her than he could._

Ella continued. “I didn’t even have to run any tests. I just looked at it under a microscope and _bam!_ That was it. Sparkles of Light all through it. Which really kinda validates who he _really_ is inside. You would think, being the Devil and all, it would have been something dark and icky, but that’s not how the Big Guy _made_ him.”

Chloe looked at her for a long moment, saying nothing, nodding with one finger at her mouth, absorbing this. 

 _She could have done that.  She could have looked at it, but she didn’t. Was it really about preserving humanity’s faith, for her?  Somehow I don’t think so. She just wasn’t ready to know._  

Finally she spoke. “And you didn’t tell anyone because of your history with … Rae-rae? Um, Azrael? Lucifer’s sister… Who is…?”

Ella made a moue. “Um, yeah, partly that.  Also, I think it’s something you have to be ready for, and it just didn’t seem like you were.  Otherwise, you wouldn’t have thrown his blood away. And telling _Lucifer_ I knew… Well, you know how honest he is, just seemed better to play along with the whole ‘method actor’ thing that popped out of my mouth when I first met him.”

Chloe nodded, again. “I… guess I can understand why you handled it the way you did. I hope you know I would never have judged you for um, seeing Rae-rae.”

Ella sighed in genuine relief. “Thanks, Chloe. But about Rae-rae… I found out tonight, Rae-rae’s not a ghost. Her real name is Azrael, and it turns out, not only is she Lucifer’s sister, she’s the Angel of Death. That’s what I meant on the phone when I said I was getting hit six ways from Sunday…”

“The Angel of Death?” Chloe’s voice went up an octave. “And she’s with Dan? Oh. Oh. I see.” Chloe’s face went white.

“Not good. I know.” Ella leaned back on the balcony rail and raised a hand to her chin, thinking.  “Sucks being stuck here not knowing what’s going on. But, wait… Lucifer said a very _public_ display… He’s got quite a few fan pages, you know.  Maybe we can see what’s up.” 

She pulled her phone from her pocket, waved it like it was the answer to all their problems, then pressed the button on the side to light it up and swiped her pattern to unlock it.  

“Maybe we should sit down,” Ella said, grimacing.

Seeing her expression, Chloe moved closer, glancing over her shoulder. “Yeah, let’s.” She definitely looked a little shaky on her feet as she headed into the penthouse and sat on the dark gold couch.  Ella followed, sitting close beside her to share the small screen, turning her phone sideways.

She’d started with some general searches, “wings + Los Angeles + Devil” There were a smattering of videos, hastily posted, of Dan’s car, bubble on top and siren blaring, heading down Hollywood Blvd with what she knew were Lucifer’s wings actually extending out of the back seat of the car, _through_ the metal of the doors. Most were blurry and the wings glowed and flickered, looking unreal.  Some of them had titles like “WTF is this shit???” On one, the poster turned the camera to his own face and chortled. “Can you believe this? Hollywood!”

Sure enough, it didn’t take long before a search for “Lucifer Morningstar” started pulling up a flood of videos on YouTube. There was one video from a guy who ran an “alternate” news site.  Someone had sent in a video that had managed to get a fairly clear shot of Lucifer glancing toward the window of the car, his eyes burning, his face lit with flickers across his skin. He had slowed it down and was commenting over it, “This definitely looks like the owner of Lux, Lucifer Morningstar.  He claims to be the Devil, and you know what? Looks to me like _he really is._ ”

But, scrolling down the comments, Ella scoffed. Top comment was, “Fake.”  Others speculated that it must be some kind of PR stunt. Lucifer Morningstar must be a stage name, right? He had to be an actor. Must be a new movie coming out. It was Hollywood, after all. 

“Great CGI,” someone else declared. “You know they can edit live video, now, right? Wipe things out, put things in.”  Anytime someone made any comment that maybe this was real, the trolls pounced. There were a few dire warnings from more religious commentators, but they were either ignored or viciously attacked.

And then videos started popping up from further down the street, and there was a clear shift in the attitude of the crowd in them. 

In one, someone had been recording the Boulevard as a tourist on a Friday night, and a young man dressed like a 60’s throwback came running down the sidewalk, a wide, excited grin on his face, yelling, “Holy shit, check it out! The Devil’s on the loose! Clear the way!” It was like there was a wave of connection going down the street, an awareness that _something was happening._ Camera phones were turned in expectation, people were running to clear the street, turning back to look, to see what was coming.

This video was shot from the corner of an intersection.  There was a bus coming into view from a cross street, the driver unaware, and then Dan’s car appeared, hurtling down the street, lights flashing, cars ahead of him pulling out of the way. The video poster zoomed in, flipped the view back and forth from the bus and back to the car. It was clearly headed straight for the bus. Ella’s heart stuttered and she glanced at Chloe. Her face was drained of color. _Are we about to see them crash and burn?_

 _And then Lucifer pulled Dan_ through _the roof of the car._

His huge white wings were flaming, now, his chest and face lit up with Hellfire. Beside her, Chloe gasped, as Lucifer hauled Dan under one arm, carrying him as easily as a kid carries books on his hip, smashed his fist through the roof and _lifted the car._  

“OhmyGod, ohmyGod, ohmyGod,” Ella murmured. 

The video was not great quality, a grainy zoom, and the sound was muffled, but over the shocked murmurs of the bystanders, Ella could hear Dan screaming and Lucifer _roaring,_ his voice reverberating with terrifying power. She held her breath, and beside her, Chloe did the same. They watched as Lucifer whipped his glowing, blood-streaked and flame-shot wings downward and dragged the car higher into the air, just barely clearing the bus, flying out of the frame of the shaking camera.  The video poster tried to follow his track into the sky, but the bus was now crossing the intersection and blocked the view.

“Holy shit! Did you _see_ that?” said the man holding the camera phone. And then the video ended.

Ella turned and looked at Chloe. They both just stared at each other, stunned speechless.

Finally, Chloe spoke. “So. This is our life now.”

 

***

As Lucifer shot into the sky, he realized right away that Daniel was screaming not just in terror, but in agony. Lucifer’s shirt was now torn completely open, and the flames that shifted across his bare chest and stomach, along with his hand under Daniel’s side, were not harmless to Daniel. After all, Hellfire burned the guilty, and Daniel was Hellbound. 

He was just pissed off enough to decide not to be in any real hurry to put him down. After all, at least it wasn’t _forever._ Daniel had done some very hurtful things to Chloe and even the Spawn, by neglect.  And though he had been trying to redeem himself lately, this act of attempted murder on his person was not something that he should take lightly. 

Perhaps a few minutes of agonizing Hellfire would be punishment enough. Hell’s punishments always seemed to stretch seconds into years, who’s to say Hellfire on Earth wasn’t the same experience?

Lucifer headed for the beach, the same spot where he had first come up from Hell to Los Angeles, where he had Maze sever his wings. Humans tended to avoid it. Though most of them weren’t consciously aware of it, they did respond to vibrations, and that spot, with its thin veil through to Hell, felt _wrong_ to them.

While he was still about a half mile out, he decided he’d had enough of carrying Daniel’s car. He flared his wings to hover.

“Daniel, trying to find a parking space in this city is just, you know, Hell. So I hope you don’t have anything sentimental in your car.”

He did a quick spin and shot-putted the car the half mile into the Pacific. 

Just afterward, he caught a buzzing sound under the ruckus of Daniel’s screaming, and looked back the way they had come to see a flock of drones following him, lights and cameras trained on his every move.  He rolled his eyes. _Absolutely no privacy in this City!_

“I’m Lucifer freaking Morningstar, all right? Send me a bill!” he yelled, thrusting a palm out toward them with his Lightbringer power to overload the tiny engines, popping the lot of them like fireworks. He made sure they were completely disintegrated, only ash falling out of the sky.

_Hopefully, we won’t be tracked from here. I need to have a little talk with Daniel in private._

Pulling his wings into stoop mode, he dove for the beach, Daniel writhing and screaming under his arm. Seconds later, he arrived, flared his wings to brake and alighted on the beach.  After he dumped Daniel unceremoniously on the sand, he started to pace, glaring at the man. He still couldn’t bring himself to pull his wings in all the way.

“What the Hell were you thinking, Daniel? Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve got me into?  _All_ of us?” he yelled.

Daniel just lay on the sand, panting, obviously relieved to not be screaming in pain. Finally he managed to speak, but not to answer the question.

“You… you s-saved me.  And… all those… people,” he stuttered, struggling to sit up in the sand. “Why?  Why… would _you_... do that?”

Lucifer kept pacing, then just threw up his hands in frustration, his wings still flaming with his ire. “I told you in the car, Daniel. I’m not your enemy. I… I’m sorry I frightened you, okay? Back at the penthouse. I thought it was for the best. There are things you don’t understand about Hell, but you _really_ need to, now.”

“You said you were… coming after me. But you saved me.  I don’t get it,” Daniel had finally managed to sit up in the sand, but he didn’t seem to want to go any further than that. “What in God’s name is happening?”

Lucifer huffed and glared upward. “Nothing in His name, I hope. I’m not in the mood to get smited. I just revealed Divinity to the whole freaking world, thanks to your homicidal shenanigans. That’s Angel no-no #2, right behind #1, killing a human. Which I did today, too.”

Daniel thought about that for a minute. “Pierce. You killed Pierce.”

“Ding, ding, ding! You got it! But his name was CAIN. And you’re welcome. If I’d let him live it’s certain he would have killed your whole family, since the Detective shot him. Talk about a bad break-up. But that doesn’t matter to Dad, does it? _I_ broke the cardinal rule.”

Daniel just looked at him, a choked sound coming from this throat. “Your… Dad. God.”

Lucifer halted in his pacing and put his hands out to his sides, cocking his head to one side and biting off a grin, his wings giving a little annoyed flutter. It was the same expression he’d had on his face, minus the Hellfire and wings, when he told Amenadiel in this very spot that he was never going back to Hell, that do-you-get-it-now look that had infuriated his brother into attacking him.  With Daniel, now, it just deflated him further.

“Lucifer…” He spoke the name slowly, clearly in full realization that he was _not_ talking to a man named after the Devil by incomprehensible parents. Daniel dropped his gaze and stared at the sand, unable to meet his. “Why didn’t you… kill me?”

Lucifer let his hands drop to his sides. “The truth? You’re the Spawn’s sire.  It would hurt _her,_ and therefore the Detective _._ And yes, I did consider you a friend, despite your douchiness, though that went out the window when you nearly killed Miss Lopez whilst unloading your gun on my chest.”

Daniel sat in the sand, his mouth twisted in a frown, and gave a soft whimper. 

Lucifer sighed. “I get why you did it. You thought it was your EZ Pass to Heaven, to be with Charlotte. I’m doing my _best_ not to take it personally. But why you would take the misguided route _Malcolm_ chose instead of the path that Charlotte did is beyond me. I’m quite certain _she_ redeemed herself.”

He shook his head and started pacing again. “And I scared the life out of you because I thought it would relieve your guilt if I played the villain you humans all think I really am, so _you_ could play the hero. Because, Daniel, whether you go to Hell or not isn’t up to me.  It’s up to _you._   My Father _did_ give _you_ free will.  Whether my siblings and I have it or not is debatable, but there’s no question about _yours._ It’s your own guilt that drives you down.”

“ _Our_ guilt?”

“Yes, Daniel. _Your_ guilt. You humans send yourselves to Hell. So I thought that the worst thing I could do for your soul was to convince you that I was your friend, because there’s no guilt worse than realizing you killed -- or tried to kill -- a friend.” He paused. “Or family.” His thoughts veered to that horrible moment with Uriel, repeated in Hell, but he snatched control again before plunging off that cliff. 

“Then it occurred to me there might be another way. Something I learned just tonight.”

Daniel got slowly to his feet. “Another way? To keep me out of Hell?” The look on his face was sheer confusion. “That’s what _you_ really want?”

Lucifer scoffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance, steeling himself to speak calmly. “Yes, Daniel. That’s what I want. Contrary to what you’ve been taught, I have no use for souls. They’re just more work that I _never_ asked for in the first place.”

Lucifer took a step toward him, just testing. Daniel stepped back.

 _He still thinks I might kill him at any moment. I imagine telling him I could slap his head off any time I want_ is _a tad off-putting. Especially now that he knows it’s absolutely true._

“I’m not going to hurt you, Daniel. Well, no more than I already have, by virtue of, well, _this._ ” He chopped his hand, palm up, toward his middle, both lighting the dark beach with their flame. “ _This…_ is Hellfire. I think you’ve had enough of a taste of what’s waiting for you, if you don’t get your head on straight.”

Daniel huffed, his mouth still twisted in that devastated frown. “Uh… yeah,” he said.

“So, Daniel, you can rest assured, Douche Delight Flambé is not on the menu for tonight.” Lucifer smiled slightly, actually hoping to break through with his little joke, remind him of the man he’d worked with and sometimes shared a somewhat human male bonding moment with over the last few years, but Daniel just went pale. 

“Oh, dearie me! Daniel, I don’t _eat_ humans! Seriously!” Lucifer laughed. At that, Daniel did finally manage a bit of a choked chuckle, but it seemed forced and the terror was still clear in his eyes.

Lucifer took another test step toward him.  Again, Daniel stepped back. This time, Lucifer felt his ire rising.  All he really wanted to do was get back to Chloe and Ella, and forget this man’s misguided betrayal. 

He was running out of patience, and the Devil’s was a very limited supply to begin with.

 _I am_ so _done with this..._

***

Dan couldn’t reconcile the creature that was staring at him with eyes that burned from a place of eternal torment with the man he’d known and worked with for the last few years. Even though his features were clearly recognizable through the flickers of Hellfire and his British accent familiar, this wild, unbelievably powerful and ancient being could not possibly be the same person.

Everything the Devil had been saying buzzed in his head, unreal, disconnected from the unfathomable reality that stood before him.  

He was exhausted from bearing the absolute agony of the fire that blazed across Lucifer’s body and had ravaged him for what seemed like ages while he was being carried like a rucksack across the sky.  He couldn’t help it. His mind just looped around to the beginning again, trying to reconnect, make sense of everything that had happened, and he was back to the inescapable fact of his doom. 

_I tried to kill the Devil. And I’m going to Hell._

“ _Why_ are you doing this? I don’t… I don’t understand…” he mumbled through the haze in his head.

Lucifer huffed and glared at him. “I _told_ you…” he started, baring his teeth like a feral animal. Something about Dan’s confusion infuriated him. The Devil lunged toward him, flaming wings flaring with his movement.  Dan instinctively threw himself backwards, kicking sand everywhere, but Lucifer was supernaturally quick. He snatched him up by his lapels, and Dan found himself dangling in the air again, helpless. Desperately, he tried to turn his gaze anywhere but into the eyes of the Devil, but though he couldn’t bear his gaze, he couldn’t look away either.

Lucifer’s voice thrummed, harsh, inhuman. “I may not be the King of Hell anymore, but I’m still the Devil. I am _tired_ of trying to explain myself to a mur…” Lucifer cut his words off, tightening his lips. Dan caught it when something haunted flickered in his burning eyes.

_He killed Pierce._

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “I do _not_ want your soul. You are _not_ going to Hell. _Look at me,”_ he ordered, in the voice of a beast, vibrating with infernal power, and Dan _had_ to obey. 

Perhaps if he were aligned with Heaven, he could have resisted, but he was Hellbound. In this moment, his soul belonged to the abdicated King of Hell, whether Lucifer wanted it or not.

Dan was drawn into the fire in Lucifer’s eyes, but this time was different.  He didn’t feel as if a mirror to his sullied soul were being held up before him, reflecting his Hellbound and hopeless fate, leaving him destitute.

This time, it felt as if the fire in Lucifer’s eyes was rushing through Dan’s mind like a wildfire wind through a doomed forest. Every rotten thing he’d ever done started flashing through his mind, and he _knew_ Lucifer could see it. Dan knew he was opening up to it, all of it, the sin, the pain, the desperate killings at Palmetto Street, shots blasting through his brain.  

Lucifer shuddered with each bullet, still holding him airborne, grunting as if he felt the pain of each death Dan had caused.

He saw Chloe’s teal eyes, then, the betrayed anguish, remembered her furious slap, and _Lucifer growled, flinching,_ feeling the pain of her strike and more, the deep wound within her that _Dan_ had been meant to bear.

Then, Trixie’s dark eyes gazed into his, and he knew he was seeing her from Chloe’s point of view, the disappointment when he broke a promise _again_ and left his daughter feeling forgotten and unloved. Lucifer gave a soft moan, his burning eyes brimming.

Dan remembered then all the times Lucifer had complained bitterly about his father’s abandonment, his family’s desertion. And he realized, no matter what else he was, he was a son who needed his father’s love. 

Then the deepest guilt hit him. Lucifer was taking the punishment that was meant for him, absorbing his guilt.

Lucifer _was_ his friend.

_And I tried to kill him._

“Stop. Lucifer, _stop,”_ Dan managed to choke out, his own eyes blurring. “ _You_ don’t have to bear this.”

Lucifer ignored him. Growling, Lucifer held him high, pinned by his Hellfire gaze until every guilty deed was exposed, every remorseful thought he’d ever had was swirling ash. His Light and Fire blazed through Dan’s soul and left him empty.

And finally, finally…

Free.

***

Chloe and Ella kept flipping through videos, taken from every angle all down the Boulevard.  The one from the host of the alternative news site was racking up close to 2 million views already, since he had a dedicated following of subscribers on board.  It was spilling over, going viral.

Others popped up, these from the very strange view of a drone among a little flock of drones, following Lucifer through the sky. His wings glowed against the backdrop of blackness, above the still shrieking car, its lights flashing.  Lucifer paused, hovering, contrary to all laws of physics. Then he suddenly spun, whipping the car out toward the Pacific ocean, which appeared to be still nearly a half a mile away.

“Oh. Well.” Chloe gaped at the screen in Ella’s hands. _So.  He’s_ that _strong. When_ I’m _not around._ She remembered how humiliated he had been when Bobby B. got the drop on him when he thought Chloe wasn’t near. _He’s really been keeping it on a leash, hasn’t he?_

But she turned to Ella and, after picking her jaw up off the floor, rolled her eyes and smirked. 

“He’ll buy him another one, right?” Chloe said. Ella just gave her a crazy eyed look and a freak out laugh. 

The drone caught up to Lucifer while he hovered, and he turned, spotting them, his eyes blazing through the night eerily.  The sight would be terrifying to anyone who didn’t know Lucifer. Even knowing him, it sent chills up her spine. 

He was still carrying Dan like a sack of potatoes under his arm.  A screaming, writhing sack. 

Lucifer’s shirt was completely torn open and the flames that crackled across his abdomen and up across his chest and face were apparently not harmless to her ex. Chloe almost felt sorry for him, but then she remembered Ella saying that Lucifer thought he might have a way to help Dan.  Dan, who was screaming in agony from the guilt of many misdeeds, including trying to kill Lucifer and nearly killing Ella.

Then Lucifer yelled at the drones, “I’m Lucifer freaking Morningstar, all right? Send me a bill!” He reached out toward the camera and fire engulfed the view, ending the video.

Chloe and Ella just stared at the blank screen for a stunned moment. 

Then, “He tells them where to send the bill, then blows up the drones!” Ella exclaimed, laughing. “So freaking Lucifer freaking Morningstar!” 

That open mouthed smile was on her face again, but then it faded. “Oh my God, are we in trouble.” 

Ella grimaced, then she quickly stroked up the screen, scrolling down to the comments. 

The skeptical trolls were vicious and numerous, and their comments outnumbered the ones from people who believed it could possibly be real. 

_Lucifer Morningstar? He’s an actor, right? I heard he was an actor._

_What, u really expect us to believe this? It’s Project Blue Beam.  Everybody heard about the Jesus thing, so now they’re going with the Devil in the Sky!_

And then Chloe’s gaze fell on one comment that didn’t fit with the back and forth, flaming arguments over whether it was CGI or reality.

_Mr. Morningstar, please help me.  I don’t know how to reach you. If you see this, please, contact me.  It’s life and death._

The comment was from someone named Razrunner. Chloe made a mental note of the name, planning to follow up later, as Ella refreshed her search.

The videos began to disappear.  

***

When Lucifer finished with Dan, his soul felt just a little bit filthy. He tossed the man roughly back to the sand and paced in a circle, an unfamiliar urge overcoming him. It was like something slimy inside him wanted to crawl back up his throat.

Choking it back, he turned to Dan. “You’ve got a clean slate, Daniel.  Don’t muck it up. Just remember ‘yes, and…’ and go with the best answer, all right? The answer that doesn’t hurt anyone. Still think my life is simple?”

With that, he leapt into the sky, focusing on the one person on the planet he wanted to be with most. He shifted through a place that was not, into spectrums of colors human eyes had never beheld, and then he was there. Back on his own balcony.  

The Detective and Miss Lopez were sitting on the couch inside the penthouse, staring at a phone.  

Suddenly he felt compelled to gasp for breath, as if a fire was rising inside him that needed to be fed. Wave after wave of this _wrongness_ surged through him, spiraling and shoving for … _something._ Tension arced through him and he felt pushed, as if some invisible giant hand was molding his body like a clay figure.

_Let it go.  Let it go. It’s not yours to hold._

His wings extended completely, as if of their own will. He spread his arms wide, threw his head back and _roared_ at the sky, his wings, his entire body flaring with Hellfire like a supernova. An image bloomed in his mind, a black hole at the edge of the universe, darkness stretching in streams toward it, as it sucked this negative energy burn out of him.

And then it was gone, and he crumpled to his knees, panting.  

_Bloody Hell, what just happened?_

He dropped his hands to his thighs and bowed his head, and his gaze caught on a strange glimmer coming from his ring, Light flashing a rainbow out of its depth of darkness.

He suddenly realized that his clothes had burned completely off of him, as clean as flash paper.

He looked up. The Detective was watching him.  

“And he’s naked,” she said.

Lucifer burst out laughing, and it felt really, really good.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9/9/2019 - Still brainstorming, but still in a slump. I will continue. I know where I want to go with this story. Sorry, but I'm feeling a bit down. I'm trying to pull myself out of it; went to exercise class this morning and I'm trying to get out walking more. Forgive me, please.
> 
> 8/31/2019 - I stayed and camped out for a while before returning home. No internet at Crystal Lake in the Angeles National Forest. It's taking me a bit to recover, and there is also the post-Convention blues to slog through. Getting better, still brainstorming the next chapter. I WILL continue, soon!
> 
> 8/20/2019 - I went to the Salute to Lucifer Convention, and it was sooooo awesome seeing Tom Ellis, Aimee Garcia, Kevin Alejandro, D.B. Woodside, Tricia Helfer and Inbar Lavi (sp?) there! It was my very first convention, and there were some problems (like Creation Entertainment charging me five times for something that was actually included in my Gold Weekend ticket!) but I got to get a picture with Tom and autographs with all the cast except Inbar. When Tom saw me, he opened his arms and said, "You look like an angel!" and I didn't even have my wings on! Such a sweetie!  
> ***  
> 8/15/19 I'm in Phoenix, AZ, headed to Los Angeles tomorrow! Sitting in a Starbucks and a flashdance broke out!
> 
> But I did a little editing on Chapter 14, so, sorry if all my little rewrites are annoying! The Devil made me do it!
> 
> 8/11/19 Sunday again, and I'm going to miss posting, sorry! Been having some health issues the last two days and I'm still not feeling well. Also, I'm still brainstorming what I want to happen next. Working into my original idea, but I'm working out how to reveal it in the most exciting way possible!
> 
>  
> 
> I'm so sorry, but I really don't think I'll be able to post for a while -- I have the Salute to Lucifer Convention I'm attending this week. I will be leaving Wednesday, staying in Phoenix two nights and then on to Los Angeles! I'm going as a character I'm planning to write in this story. I haven't introduced her yet, but she's getting more fully formed in my head every day!


	15. Burning Naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy stuff. Putting the worn out Devil to bed.

Chloe had actually been more afraid _for_ Lucifer than _of_ him when she saw him on the balcony.  His burning eyes had been wild, and it was clear he was not in control.  His wings stretched out as if pulled by invisible wires and he was panting as if there was a bellows inside him. He threw his head back and then the sound that came out of him, that deep roar that reverberated inside her ratcheted up her fear, her certainty that something was horribly wrong with him.  It was like watching a slow motion explosion building to total destruction.

There was an instant of sheer terror when he disappeared in a winged, Lucifer-shaped white-hot flash of Hellfire, the image blinding and burned into her retinas, when she thought he was just… gone. 

_Noooooo! Lucifer… He can’t be… Did his Father …? Nooooo!_

Then it cleared, and there he was, still burning but buck naked. Her tight shoulders slumped, her tension easing even as he fell to his knees. She was so relieved that she wanted to laugh.  

A quick flicker of the two moments before when she had seen him thus, minus the Hellfire and wings, came to mind, _Lucifer, turning, gloriously displaying himself, as pridefully beautiful as a peacock with tail feathers splayed.  Then again, in a pawnshop of all places, Saint Lucifer for all to see, asking her, totally bemused, “Am I doing this wrong?”_

Yes, yes he was, and no, he wasn’t.  It was just so perfectly _Lucifer._ And now it was so crystal clear why he was so puzzled and intrigued by human behavior.  _Not human._

She wanted to laugh. And it seemed that they all wanted that.  When she responded to this entire, out-of-this-world, crazy situation from that annoyed and clueless perception that she’d had in the pawnshop, it was exactly what they all needed. 

“And he’s naked.” 

It reminded her of _who he really was. Not human, but a fascinated fallen angel, trying hard to understand humanity._

Lucifer was sitting on his heels, now laughing so hard that he dropped forward on his hands.  His ragged, bloody wings splayed out around him, no longer cast in fire, though his skin still flickered with it, now visible from his head to his toes. Seeing him letting go in laughter brought it out in her and she joined him in it, completely releasing all the tension she had been holding in.

Ella, beside her, was laughing, too. She doubled over, stumbling as she moved to snatch the blanket from the floor and headed toward him. “Dude… are you okay? Wow… that was… just wow… Are you okay?”

Chloe got up and followed, chuckling.  Ella made it to him and tossed the blanket over him as if going for a stop, drop and roll maneuver, completely covering him, just his wings exposed. For a ludicrous instant, Chloe imagined there could be a giant chicken under the blanket, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from exploding in renewed gales of laughter.

“You’re OK, right? Yeah? You’re OK,” she said, relief evident in her tone. “And Dan? You found a way to help him?”

Lucifer was nodding, under the blanket, still chuckling. Chloe made it to his side, knelt and patted the blanket, pulling it back, carefully revealing his face.  He peeked out at her, smirking, and though his eyes were still a window to Hell, he was still just Lucifer, again.

“Left him stranded on the beach. He can Uber it home, though. His car… well, the bloody douche deserved a time out. You can rest assured, he won’t be running off with the Spawn.”

Ella bit her lip to stop her chuckles.  “Yeah, we saw what you did to his car. We saw pretty much _everything_. It _was_ all over the internet.” Her inflection on _was_ made it a definite past tense, not a certainty.

Lucifer turned to her, brows knitted. “You… it _was?”_ He shook his head, his eyes flickered.  It was clear he wanted to know more about how it _was_ all over the internet, but maybe wasn’t now, but his exhaustion was bleeding through. He made a little hum and started to push himself up to his feet, trembling, his glowing, bedraggled wings drooping.  

Shivering as he struggled to his feet, he tugged at the blanket, closing it at his waist in front and letting it drop to his shoulders. The second he seemed to accept it as something he _wore,_ his wings slid through it, lifting at his sides slowly, trembling. It was odd to watch, the way he handled the material nature of the Earth plane as if it were completely malleable to his will, where his wings were involved.  He didn’t think about it any more than Chloe would have thought about how to move her fingers to pick up a pen. Chloe caught how Ella was boggling at it, too, her scientific mind whirring with questions.

Chloe reached around him from one side and Ella lifted from the other, under his wings.  With his wings’ added weight, he was quite heavy, even though he was still supporting the majority of it. His long, trailing feathers rustled against her skin, silky, fluffy soft. 

 _So strange. We just saw him carrying a_ car, _not to mention tossing it into the Pacific like it was no heavier than a ping pong ball. But now he’s as helpless as a kitten._

“Right. Well, looks like all that _everything_ took everything out of me.  I thought I was knackered _before_ …”  He just let the statement drop with a little huff. “I hate having my wings this filthy and wrecked,” Lucifer went on. “But I need to sleep. And that bloody wanker is in my bedroom.”

“We’ll take care of him, no worries,” Ella soothed. “Right, Chloe? We can take him in my car.”

Chloe nodded, remembering that her car was still parked in front of the alleyway that led to the building where they had been caught in Cain’s trap. 

Tucked under Lucifer’s wing, she turned her head toward Ella, nodding, and caught a whiff of Lucifer’s scent.  It was uniquely him, all trace of his super expensive cologne burned away. It was an exotic scent, smoky, like leaves from some unique, mystical, Elven-grown tree burning on a summer day, with a hint of cinnamon and musk. 

_Why does he even bother with cologne? That’s… really wonderful._

And then she noticed Ella inhaling, her pupils going wide. “Whoa, bro… you smell fantastic,” she murmured.

Lucifer glanced down at Ella, a tired half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Oops,” he said.  Then he turned a worried gaze Chloe’s way.

She smiled up at him. “Yeah, you do,” she said, but she pulled a grimace and glanced at Ella, shaking her head and mouthing, _I’m OK_ to reassure him. 

 _So that’s why he wears it. To_ mask _his natural scent. It’s very nice, but apparently I’m immune to the power behind it, just like I’m immune to his desire mojo. And yeah, that’s not hypnotism. It’s a real, supernatural power of … the Devil._

His concerned gaze melted into relief. That meant something, that he was happy she was free of his… influence.

His legs were shaking as they headed slowly for the bedroom, but they finally made it there and up the steps.  He stumbled on the last step and Chloe instinctively pressed her palm against his abs, steadying. The fire that flickered across him was an eerie flutter under her hand, but there was just a smooth warmth, no burn.

Lucifer glanced at Barrow, who was still secured, eyes wide, his mouth covered with grey duct tape, in the ancient looking chair at the foot of the bed. It was the chair where Lucifer had once smugly sat to pour her expresso _and_ “hair of the dog,” the morning she’d awoken, to her horror, naked and smothered in his black silk sheets.

Chloe smiled slightly at the memory, but then looked up at Lucifer’s face.  After that first glance, he was keeping his gaze carefully turned away from Barrow, but she could see the struggle, the temptation he fought, in the hard set of his mouth. _He could drive that bastard to insanity with one look, but he … doesn’t want to be_ that _anymore. He’s fighting hard just to contain himself. His Fire._

Again, that look in his eyes when he’d said, “Lately I’m not sure I do either,” when she had said she didn’t see him as the Devil, came back to her.

_He came so close to letting go of that part of himself. He was halfway home. But now I wonder just how powerful he really is.  Just how much has he been holding back all this time? And how much control does he have left? What happens if he loses it completely? Something like that mini supernova on the balcony?_

She quickly shunted aside those thoughts and focused on the here and now. Between the two of them, they got him to the bed, and he put a knee on top of the spread. He let go of the blanket as his makeshift robe and gave it a little shake over his shoulders as he plumfed face down, wrecked wings settling out to his sides, and the blanket floated softly over him, over his wings.  It was unconsciously graceful, exuding sheer exhaustion and the joy of a comfortable bed. He sighed deeply, fluffed a pillow closer to his cheek and was breathing peacefully in seconds.

Hellfire still danced over his skin, across his shoulder and arm where he hugged the pillow, all the way down to his bare calves and feet, poking out from under the blanket and lighting the dim room.

Ella stood there staring at him for a moment, wobbling a bit, an unusually adoring smile on her face. Then she sighed and started to crawl into bed with him. 

“Ella!” Chloe grabbed her arm and snatched her back.  “Snap out of it!”

At first, Ella kept her gaze glued to Lucifer. “What? But I want…”

Chloe took a hold of both of her elbows and turned the little scientist to her, giving her a firm shake.  “Ella! No! No, you don’t! You know you don’t see Lucifer like _that._ It’s his _scent.”_

Ella just blinked at her, a goofy smile on her face. Then she squeezed her eyes shut for a second, shook her head and blinked again. “Wait… what?  His _scent?_  Oh… yeah.”

When she turned to look at him again, her eyes were more discerning, more... _Ella._ “Oh. You’re right. What was I thinking? Holy moly, he’d be horrified if he woke up next to me! We’d have to peel him off the ceiling. Or patch the Lucifer-shaped hole in the wall.”

Chloe chuckled, imagining that. Then she thought again about the time Lucifer _didn’t_ sleep with her. 

“Yeah, I think he would.” Watching him sleep, she remembered how he’d joked about making Rosemary’s baby with her. She had been mortified, while he had been relentless. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she tugged Ella down the Italian marble stairs and gave her a wink. 

“Maybe we should save _that_ for a revenge prank some day.”

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9/24/19 I know, I'm due for another chapter. Hold that thought, I have news! I have asked Tikkun Magazine, who I have written several articles for, if I could approach Tom Ellis for an interview on their behalf, and they are all in! So that's been a bit of a redirect of my energy, but I do have two pages into Chapter 16 done. I could put that up for you, but it doesn't feel completely finished to me.
> 
> 9/14/19 I did it! I broke through the blues! Here's Chapter 15, and I'm up and running on 16. I could have kept going, but I decided to give my loyal fans something to munch on. Enjoy!


	16. Burning in Dreamland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Ella talk while imbibing Lucifer's best. They call Dan, too.

“Well. We gotta get that criminal out of Lucifer’s bedroom. And maybe we should check on Dan,” Chloe said, slipping onto a stool at Lucifer’s bar.

Ella joined her, nodded, tapped Dan’s number on her phone and put it on the bar between them, on speaker. As soon as Dan picked up, he was sputtering apologies.

“Ella! Oh my G--Gah! Ella, I’m so sorry! I am so, so sorry!  How can you ever forgive me?”

“Dan, Chloe’s here, got you on speaker… Listen buddy, all’s well that ends well, OK?  I forgave you even as it was happening. I know how messed up you’ve been over Charlotte. We’re all hurting over that. But you can’t let it, you know…” Here she made a grimace face and gave a spiraling whistle, accompanied by a thumbs down that he couldn’t see. “...Bring you down, you know?” She paused, gave a nervous chuckle. “So… Where are you?”

“I got an Uber and I’m headed back to my place. Is Lu--” He made a sound like he was trying not to throw up. “Lucifer there?”

“Yep. Sleeping like a baby. Except for the badass barbeque charbroil lighting him up.”

Chloe stepped in at that point, her voice gentler than she was feeling. She was haunted by that thought, when she’d stepped off the elevator, that she could have been walking in to find both Lucifer and Ella’s dead bodies. But If Ella could forgive him, then she had to give it her best shot, too.  

“Dan… are you all right?”

There was a pause on the other end, then a huff of breath from him.  “Yeah. Yeah, actually I am. My head still feels like it’s cracking in half, and I still can’t quite say _his_ name without it slamming me in the face what it all means, but overall… I feel better than I ever have. Since I was a kid. I don’t know how he did it, or even _why,_ but he took it all away.” He lowered his voice, presumably conscious of the Uber driver’s attention. “My… sin.  My guilt. I feel like everything’s going to be OK.” He paused again, gathering his thoughts. “Chloe… Ella… He saved me.  I thought he wanted to kill me but he… he saved my life. And not just me, and my… soul, but a whole busload of people…”

“Yeah, Dan, we saw. _Everybody_ saw.  It _was_ all over the internet,” Ella hurried to explain, before he got too deep into the rabbit hole. “I saved some of the videos, but they’re being taken down, left and right. _Somebody_ doesn’t want all this getting out there.”

“Really?” Dan said.  “Do you think Lucifer…?”

“No, it couldn’t have been him,” Chloe interrupted.  “He just got back and he hasn’t been in touch with anyone. Besides, that’s not his style, and… well, something weird happened… I don’t know what, but it took _everything_ out of him.  We practically had to carry him to bed.”

Dan hummed, processing this. “OK, well, next steps…?”

“Number one, we need to take Barrow in, and we’re going to need Charlotte’s files. We need all the ammo we can get to deal with the flack from all this. Unfortunately, my car is at the crime scene. And I need to get home to Trixie, soon, it’s getting late.” 

Ella turned wide eyes to her. “Did you forget that you were shot? Getting checked out at the hospital should make it on that list, somewhere, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, Ella’s right,” Dan interjected. “Look, I… I, uh, made a mess of things. With… you know.  I owe him, big time.” Dan paused, thinking, lowering his voice again. “Honestly, the guy still terrifies me, and probably will for a while.  At least until I get my head around all this. But I know now that he’s not… not how he’s been painted. Not _pure evil._  So… How about this? I still have your emergency lockout key, Chlo, I can go get your car, get the files, and… come pick up Barrow.” It was almost audible, the way he swallowed at the thought of coming back to Lucifer’s penthouse. “Take him to the precinct. That won’t even begin to even the scales with uh, _him,_ but at least I can take some of the load off of _you._ And Ella, you want to take Chloe to the hospital? Drag her, if necessary?”

Ella narrowed her eyes at Chloe, as if expecting resistance. “Good plan, Dan.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but her hand went unconsciously to the grapefruit-sized bruise that had bloomed on her upper chest, under her vest. 

“Dragging won’t be necessary, I’ll go quietly. But what about Trixie?” 

“I can go hang out with my little Sushi shirt buddy for a bit, after I drop you at the hospital,” Ella volunteered.

Dan sounded satisfied with that, and they heard him redirecting the Uber driver just before he signed off with, “Be there soon.”

Chloe heaved a sigh, snagged a bottle from the bar that she recognized as one of Lucifer’s favorites, grabbed two highball glasses and sat facing Ella as she poured.

“Well, we have a little time to kill. How about... One for the road? Not something I would do, normally, but this has been anything but a normal day, right?”

Ella chuckled and raised her glass in a toast. “To a new normal. I am _so_ glad I’m not carrying this cosmic cockamamieness virtually alone anymore.”

Chloe clinked glasses and lifted her drink to her lips, taking a heartier swallow than she had intended.  The burn was smooth, of course, Lucifer’s best.

“Although I wasn’t expecting to have quite so much company on the crazy ledge, what with those videos going viral and all,” Ella continued, conversationally. “Seems like somebody stomped on the fire, but there were still a _lot_ of people who saw it before they did, not to mention the people who saw it with their own eyes.”

Chloe hummed in agreement, not really ready to think about that until she had a chance to process everything herself.   She glanced toward the bedroom. From where she was sitting at the bar, she could see Lucifer lying there, his body still alight. 

Lucifer.  _The_ Lucifer. The _actual_ Devil.

She found herself reaching over, eyes still on him, and letting her fingers encircle Ella’s wrist, craving her entirely human, grounding presence. 

When she turned to look at Ella, the perceptive little scientist had followed her gaze, her train of thought. Ella watched him a moment, her eyes gentle. Then she lowered her line of sight slightly.  Chloe followed _her_ gaze, this time, and realized she was looking at his wing.  

One of his gloriously glowing, blood-streaked wings fanned out and down the stairs that led up to his bedroom.  _His wing._ _That he used to shelter me from a hailstorm of bullets. That he pulled a feather from and saved Ella’s life with. And he’s saved my life I don’t know how many times… I really don’t._

_Because my partner has wings, and was created as an angel. An Archangel, actually._

She turned back to look at Ella, and found her gaze returned with a half smile.  It struck her then just how adeptly Ella had soothed her. For a woman who was known for outright prattle, it was amazing how she had turned Chloe’s thoughts around with nothing but a silently directed gaze. The two of them finished off their drinks in companionable silence, watching the Devil sleep. 

Finally, Chloe broke the silence. Watching Lucifer, she realized she didn’t want to leave him alone.  Even though he’d said his wings were mostly healed, he looked so wrecked.

“Do you think he’ll be okay here, alone?”

Ella furrowed her brow and the side of her mouth twisted. “Eh. I’m not so much worried about the state of his body as I am his… heart, to be honest. You know how easily he goes off the deep end. When it comes to _you,_ that is. Well, maybe you don’t, but it’s as clear as a summer day to me.”

Chloe blinked at her. “Really?”

Ella pursed her lips, nodding. “Oh yeah.”

Biting her lip, Chloe considered. “I might be at the hospital for a while. You know how busy Friday nights are.  If I can’t be here when he wakes up, I wish you could be, but Trixie…”

Ella interrupted, excited by what she thought was a solution. “I can bring her over here! We can break out the popcorn and put “Frozen” in the DVD player, or whatever Trix is into now.  I bet Lucifer has an _awesome_ entertainment system!  Of course, we’d have to be quiet, so Lucifer can sleep…”

Chloe shot Ella a boggled eyes look.  “With him like that? On fire and wings out?”

Ella turned to her, lowering her head to look at her with raised eyes, as if she were peering over invisible glasses.  “Chloe, think about it. Do you really think Trixie doesn’t know already?”

She just stared at her for a moment.  A montage of little clues suddenly started blasting through her mind. 

_Pictures, scattered on the floor as Trixie scribbled away, depicting Lucifer with horns… and wings._

_There were so many things Trixie said about Lucifer, questions about his wings and how glad he must be not to be in Hell anymore, and all I did was say, “You know Lucifer’s not the actual Devil, right, Monkey?” And Trixie just grinned and said, “OK, Mommy.” I thought I was handling it since there were never any calls from Trixie’s school.  Not since the first day with … Oh. The bully, who had screamed bloody murder in Lucifer’s presence._

_Oh. Wow. Trixie probably believed him the second he introduced himself.  And then she knew for sure when he got that mean girl off her back, and probably prevented any others from ever messing with her._

_Now I know what that grin, that “OK,” was. An evasion. Something my little monkey might just have picked up from said Devil, whom she’s apparently accepted as such since day one. Not only that, but she adores him._

_Oh. And Maze. Oh. Maze is a demon. A real, live demon. She might not be as honor-bound as Lucifer to the truth, but she never denied what she is.  She is a demon._

_A demon who took my daughter trick-or-treating, then fell asleep on the couch, cuddled up with her._

_A demon, and proud of it._

_And, according to Dan, a demon who said something horrible about Trixie, and nearly broke my daughter’s heart._

Then she remembered Monte De Oro. She remembered the exasperated sound Lucifer had made when she protested that not giving Maze a ride home one night wasn’t a reason for murder. 

Home. Was. Hell.

_A demon who wants to go back to Hell. Desperately._

Chloe flicked her gaze toward the low table and chairs on the balcony, where she had noticed Maze’s knife and her gun, earlier.  She hadn’t commented, because, whoa, overload, Lucifer had just leaped into the air and disappeared.

“Oooookay. This. Is. A. Lot. To. Take. In,” she said, reaching for Ella’s wrist, again.

At that moment, the elevator dinged. 

_Saved by the bell. From the overwhelming flood of my own bull-headed ignorance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9/25/2019 Got it, finally! Still short, but it's getting there.
> 
> Oh, just realized tomorrow is my birthday!


	17. Burning Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone steps off the elevator... A tense moment.

As the doors to the elevator began to open behind her, Ella saw Chloe’s gaze flicker from the table on the balcony where her gun and Maze’s knife lay, back to Lucifer, who had his arms above the blanket, one hugging his pillow, a stripe of red across his bicep.  Her eyes narrowed. 

Ella followed her thoughts. _That must have happened when he was fighting Cain.  Wait a minute, Lucifer was invulnerable then, right?  Unless…_ Maze’s blades _can hurt him, no matter what.  Kill him, even. Cain must have used Maze’s knife on Lucifer..._

Chloe looked to the corner of the wall surrounding Lucifer’s bedroom, where Dan had dropped his gun. It was a Glock 17, so it still had possibly twelve bullets ready to fire. Expecting Dan to step off the elevator, Ella was taken off guard when Chloe looked past her shoulder and froze for a second, then leapt off the barstool to snatch Dan’s gun from the floor and aim it toward the elevator, and whoever had just stepped off of it.

Ella spun around to see who it was, just as she heard Chloe whisper, “Maze.”

It clicked together for her in an instant, just as it had for Chloe.  

 _And just how_ did _Cain have Maze’s knife?_

It was obvious there had been trouble brewing between Lucifer and Maze for quite some time. Lucifer had been furious with Maze when he thought she was trying to manipulate him into taking her back to Hell, and though Maze had been innocent of the Monte de Oro murder and not going that far, then, it seemed clear after that she had been hatching another plan. With Cain.

Ella remembered the botched bachelorette party, with Maze doing everything she could to make sure Chloe’s wedding to Pierce, i.e. Cain, went off without a hitch.   While Ella had been secretly rooting for Lucifer to step up to the plate and hit a home run with Chloe, even if it had to be motivated by jealousy, she had seen the clues that gave away which team each of the other players had been on. Surely, Linda wanted Lucifer to own up to his feelings for Chloe, but she couldn’t do it for him, and if he bailed on her, she could only hope that Pierce would make her happy where Lucifer didn’t. Ella had no way of knowing if Lucifer had told Linda who Pierce really was, or even who _he_ was, without giving away her own knowledge. Charlotte, with her subtle, get-in-Chloe’s-head plan, had definitely been on #TeamLucifer, but Maze, clearly, was not.

Was Maze so pissed off with Lucifer that she would actually plot to kill him?  Apparently she couldn’t get back to Hell unless he took her, so how did that help her? Would Maze just pop back if he were sent back that way? That Ella couldn’t know. She certainly couldn’t have asked either of them.

But now, seeing the wary look in Chloe’s eyes, she was proud of her and afraid for her at the same time. Maze was like a badass Klingon on crack, super-strong and super-fast.  And Lucifer was probably the one who had taught her all her moves.

Lucifer was helpless right now, though. But it was brave as Hell, pun intended, for Chloe to defend him.

Maze stumbled as she stepped off the elevator, beaten and bloody, a white bandage around one arm in stark contrast to her black leathers and her smoky mocha skin.  On her far side, Ella saw that Maze had her arm around Linda. Whether her arm was around her neck to control her, or around her shoulders to support herself wasn’t clear.

Had she been there at the fight with Cain, against Lucifer?  Chloe hadn’t mentioned her and neither had Lucifer, but he had taken her knife from the scene.  Could she have been there when Chloe was unconscious?

“Lucifer?” Maze called. Her gaze lit on Ella, who was closest to the elevator. “Hey, Ellen.”

Ella scoffed, but let it go. 

Then Maze saw Chloe at the end of the bar, weapon at the ready. “Decker…  What the Hell are you doing? It’s just me, you can put that down.” Maze looked exhausted and puzzled to see the two of them there.

Chloe wasn’t taking any chances.  “Maze. Don’t come any closer. Step away from Linda.”

Maze locked gazes with her.  She narrowed her eyes at the gun pointed in her direction, then tilted her head slightly, her lips parting.

Then she glanced beyond Chloe.  From her vantage point all she could see of Lucifer was a couple of feet of his wrecked, bloody wing trailing down the bedroom steps. 

Maze froze.  Her eyes widened, then started to fill. “Decker. You didn’t… Tell me you didn’t kill Lucifer…”  Her face began to crumple, her lips to twist, and she took a step toward Chloe, ignoring her command, suddenly menacing. “I will rip your heart out, you bi---”

At this, Linda stepped forward, stretching one arm across the demon’s abdomen, barring Maze’s path, the other hand palm out toward Chloe.  Her gaze flickered to Chloe, and beyond to Lucifer’s blood splattered wing, and her eyes went wide. 

“Maze. Maze. Maze.  Hold on,” she stammered, rapid fire. “Chloe…? Kill Lucifer? Lucifer’s _dead? What?_ What is _happening_ here?” 

Chloe blinked.  It was clear Maze didn’t want Lucifer dead, now, but Chloe was still poised to defend him, still suspicious. 

Ella blurted, “Oh, no, he’s alive! He’s okay,” at the same time that Chloe rushed to answer.

“No, no, no, Linda. Maze. _I_ would _never_ hurt Lucifer.” Chloe was shaking her head, vehement. “He’s fine, just exhausted.” Her eyes got a little steely then, as she focused on Maze again.  “But CAIN had _your_ knife, Maze. Why _is_ that?”

Maze’s tense stance melted, and she huffed a sound of relief.  She blinked rapidly, stuffing down the rush of feels, the devotion to Lucifer she had just hung on the line for all to see, like pink dainties revealed. _Totes de-Mazeifying._ Raising her free hand, she turned her palm out, slowly.  

“It’s a long story. Yeah, I’m not totally innocent. Demon, you know? Obviously, you do, now. But I didn’t _give_ my blade to Cain, if that’s what you’re thinking. I never wanted _Lucifer_ dead. Except when he was being a total dick, but not _really._ ”  

Beside her, Linda gave a sigh of relief. “Oh. Oh, my… Lucifer’s not dead.  OK.” She paused, giving a little shuddery shake of her head, then forged on bravely, defending her friend.  “She didn’t, Chloe. She fought Pierce… Cain… and he took it from her when he drugged her. He was holding her at his warehouse hideout. She just got free.”

 _Well, that answers_ that _question. Linda knew about Cain, ergo she knew Lucifer was the actual Devil, too. Wow. Talk about a devoted therapist! But then again, who could be a more mind-blowing patient than the Devil himself?_

“Cain threatened Linda,” Maze added. “That’s how he caught me off guard and drugged me. After I came to and beat the crap out of his dumbass minions, I kept one alive long enough to find out what Cain’s plan for Lucifer was. So I got to Linda, and she patched me up and helped me get here when we couldn’t get through on your phones.” She shrugged, trying to regain her demonic nonchalance. “Sorry we were too late to warn you.”

Chloe turned to Linda, and slowly lowered Dan’s Glock. “All right. Well. That’s good, then.”

Maze swallowed, and her gaze flickered to Lucifer’s wing again. A bit of her earlier emotion bled through, her next words slightly tremulous. “Why is his wing all bloody? Is Lucifer really okay?”

Chloe nodded.  “Yeah. Lucifer’s okay.  He saved us. He took a lot of bullets in … in his wings… to do it. But he healed up when… well, really fast.” Ella could tell she was wondering if Lucifer should be telling _anyone_ that _she_ was his weakness.

_Did he tell Maze?_

Maze scoffed and moved forward to take a stool at the bar, Linda helping.  “Wow, Decker. Good to know you didn’t turn on him when you _finally_ saw that he’s been telling you the truth about what he is, all along. In hindsight, I’d say you looked a lot like a Hellhound there, for a second. All snarly, defending Lucifer when he’s down like that. I’m actually impressed.”

Ella could see that image hitting Chloe. It was a weird thought for her, too. 

 _Hellhounds are real. Lucifer is really, well,_ was _really the King of Hell.  With Hell hounds at his feet._  

Chloe blinked again, paling a little. “A Hellhound?” She slipped back onto the barstool next to Ella as if her legs were slowly losing strength and put the gun on the bar, then looked over at Lucifer. He was sleeping soundly in the dim bedroom, the fire across his body setting the only ambiance.  She stared at him for a long minute, and then finally, a slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Wow.”

_She must have finally come to the same conclusion I did. That’s a-maze-balls!_

_Maybe I can help him make up with the Big Guy, his Dad, someday, but in the meantime…_

_Daaaayuuuum! Our Lucifer Morningstar is totes_ badass.


	18. Burning Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan returns to get Barrow, encounters Maze. Chloe and Ella talk on the way to the hospital. Linda stays with Lucifer.

Chloe turned as the elevator dinged again. As the doors opened, a loud huff could be heard, the sound someone would make before diving into freezing water or walking across hot coals.

Dan marched out of the elevator, an expression of fixed determination on his face, his right hand sloppily bandaged. He was moving so fast, he was past Linda and right in front of Maze, who was sitting with her back to the bar, both elbows planted behind her with her usual, ultra-cocky demeanor only slightly diminished by her current battered state, before he noticed her.  

“Hey, Linda. Maze,” he said, with a slight nod.  Suddenly, his eyes went wide as he backpedaled, staring at Maze. “Whoa, whoa, whoa…” he stammered, hands up, breath heaving.

“Well, hey to you, too, Dan,” Maze smirked. She leaned forward, around Ella, whose eyes were wide in an alarmed expression only Chloe could see. Apparently, Ella was putting some things together about Maze and Dan, just as Chloe’s own thoughts whirred and clicked. 

_Might not be a good idea to tell Maze right now that Dan tried to kill Lucifer._

Maze locked gazes with Chloe. “I take it he was here when Lucifer got back?”

Chloe nodded, widening her eyes and tightening her lips, hoping her expression only conveyed the minimum of the disaster that was Dan’s reaction to Lucifer’s true Luciferness.

Maze turned back to Dan. “Calm _down,_ Dan.  Don’t be such a wuss! Yes, I’m a demon, but I’m not going to kill you.” She cocked her head, eyes sharpening. “What happened to your hand?”

“Uh…” Dan went even paler, if that was possible.

“Long story, for another time,” Chloe interjected. She jumped to her feet and headed over to Dan, taking his arm firmly and tugging him toward the stairs that led up to the bedroom. “We still have a very unwelcome guest tied up in Lucifer’s room that we need to get to the precinct. Right. Now.”

Once in Lucifer’s bedroom, Dan wasn’t faring any better.  His eyes were wide--rabbit trapped in a hawk aviary wide. Chloe was forced to leave him there, pale and shaking, to retrieve his gun from the bar.  When she came back, he was still standing and just staring at Lucifer, bloody wings splayed and body flaming, on the bed.

She moved close to Dan, to whisper, “Let Lucifer handle Maze.  It’ll be okay.” She stepped back then, aiming the Glock at Barrow, who glowered at her over the tape covering his mouth. Slightly louder but mindful of the sleeping Devil, she said, “I’ll cover Barrow while you get him out of that chair and put the cuffs back on him.”

Dan did have the presence of mind to show some concern for Lucifer. “He’s really okay?” 

She recognized that much of his fear of Lucifer was slowly fading, to be replaced by a begrudging awe. “He’s just resting. He’ll be fine. You might find it hard to believe, but we all had a good laugh at all this craziness, earlier.”

Dan raised his eyebrows at that, but he turned, then, finally shaking off his Maze-induced sluggishness, took his handcuffs from his belt and started on the task at hand. It was difficult, but he managed to get it done while favoring his damaged right hand.

He shook his head, kneeling to get to Barrow’s ankles. “All this time.” He scoffed. “All this time,” she heard him mutter under his breath. Then he raised his head and stared into the distance, his hands stilling.

“Oh, crap.” Dan blinked. 

“What?” Chloe queried, wondering what further horrific revelation could have occurred to him.

“I smacked the Devil on the ass.”

It was Chloe’s turn to blink. _Oh. Wow. So did I._ Lucifer’s bemused expression came back to her, how uncharacteristically reserved he had been that day, totally thrown by her epic fail flirting.

Lucifer picked just this moment to stir, his battered, glowing wings fluffing in his sleep.

They both startled, but Chloe’s barely repressed laugh came out as an embarrassing snort, and Dan just managed to grimace his nervous snicker away.

 

Lined up at the bar under the golden glow of the rows of top shelf liquor, Linda was the farthest from the Devil’s bedroom.  The three remaining members of the Tribe looked at each other, silence awkward for a moment.

“So,” Linda finally ventured, leaning forward to look past Maze, “You’re taking this amazingly well, Ella.”

Ella waved a hand, gripping her empty highball glass in the other. “Psh, I figured it out a while ago, pretty much the first case we were on together. Just couldn’t tell anyone until they were good and ready to know. I wasn’t sure _you_ knew, either, until tonight. I wish I had, might’ve been nice to have someone I could’ve talked with about it.”

Linda blinked behind her glasses. _Why am I surprised? I really should have known from what Lucifer said about her on their Vegas trip at the very least. There’s much more to this one than meets the eye._

“Oh. My. You’re quite the actress.  All that talk about Lucifer being a method actor, and you’re the one who deserves an Oscar!” Linda laughed, and Ella joined her in it. 

“Yeah, well, it’s no secret I’m a huuuuuge nerd. We Trekkies like to do a lot of role-playing. Guess it paid off.”

“I guess it did,” Linda concluded, smiling. “And you’re okay with ...?” Linda waved toward the sleeping Devil’s wing.

Ella turned to look where Linda directed, her gaze soft. She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Well, not at first, to be completely honest.  It took some long, hard talks with the Big Guy, for one thing.”

Maze scoffed at that, but refrained from any scathing remarks.

“And, yeah, seeing it first hand tonight was jaw-dropping,” Ella continued. “But look at the dude. Look at his bloody, and I mean literally bloody, not…” Here she attempted the accent, but didn’t quite pull it off. “...British bloody, wings. He did _that_ for Chloe.”

At that moment, Chloe and Dan came carefully down those stairs, avoiding the afore-mentioned wing, pushing Barrow, his mouth still taped, along. Chloe returned Dan’s Glock to its holster and came to stand by Ella while Dan continued the perp-walk to the elevator, carefully avoiding Maze’s sharp gaze.

“Hey Linda, Maze? It’s really good you’re here,” Chloe said.  “I wasn’t comfortable with leaving Lucifer alone, but I have to get checked out at the hospital. It’s protocol, after all.” She paused, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Uh, it might not be a good idea for you, Maze, to be here right when he wakes up, though.”

Maze grimaced. “Yeah… I smell what you’re stepping in, Decker. You guys let Lucifer know I wasn’t trying to kill him, okay? I might go hang downstairs for a while. After I get cleaned up some.”

Chloe and Linda nodded at Maze, who limped off toward the back guest rooms, beyond the study. 

Ella turned to Linda. “I was planning to take Chloe to the hospital, then go get Trixie. Could you stay with Lucifer? Just until I get back?”

Linda hummed her acquiescence. “Of course. He might need me to help him deal with…” her gaze flickered to Chloe, “...all of this if he wakes up tonight.” She headed toward the bedroom entrance to check on her celestial patient and friend.

“Thank you, Linda,” Chloe said sincerely, before heading toward the elevator. “Let’s talk later, yeah?”

Linda nodded, continuing up the stairs, then raised her eyes to Lucifer.

“What the heck?” Linda came to a dead halt in the doorway without a door, her hand clenched at the corner of the Sumerian blocks, her gaze transfixed by the flickering hellfire across Lucifer’s exposed arms and face. “What is _this_ about?”

Ella was almost to the elevator, now following Chloe. She turned and walked backwards, stepping like a dancer. “He said it’s his guilt. I’ll let him fill in the blanks,” she called, as the elevator opened and swallowed the two.

 

Chloe realized as the doors opened into the underground garage that she’d never seen Ella’s car. The reason became obvious when the little scientist led her to a parking spot Lucifer had equipped with a charging station, where a Tesla Model S sat. 

“Here’s my baby,” Ella chirped.  “He puts the S in S3XY. Zero to sixty in 2.4 seconds!”

Chloe gawked. “That’s the top of the line.  Wow, Ella… How can you afford…? Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to be rude...”

Ella scoffed and grinned, forgiving her slip. She unlocked the car with the key fob and opened the driver’s side door. “I didn’t just steal cars for _fun,_ Chloe. I saved up for this sweetie.”

“Oh, right.” Chloe slipped into the passenger side with a sigh. “You are just full of surprises today, Ella. And whooo boy is this a day for surprises. So when exactly did you look at Lucifer’s blood? You really didn’t freak out?”

“I did, some, at first.” Starting the silent car and pulling out of the garage onto the boulevard, Ella worried her lower lip.  “There were a couple of things that happened that pushed me to look at it. First, well, at the crime scene with Wesley Cabot, I started to ask Lucifer a question, and he, well, I…” Ella was definitely blushing. “I don’t really think _now_ that he just misunderstood my intention.  I think it was a test. But he just kind of powered up his… temptation mojo.  He acted like he thought I was asking to _…”_ She lowered her voice and grimaced the next words out, “... _have sex_ with him, right there.  And it worked, for a second.  I was like, ‘Yeah, let’s go!’ Which is _really_ not like me. But then right away I said no.” 

Chloe peered at her, and she couldn’t help but feel a little burn of the green-eyed monster. _Lucifer was going to have sex with her? At a crime scene?_

Ella glanced at her, sensing this, and went on quickly. “But like I said, I don’t think he meant it. It was a test, to see if I was ‘immune to his charms.’” This she said in her faux British accent, still not hitting it quite right. “And in a way, by failing, even for a second, I passed.”

Chloe nodded, and the little spark of jealousy sputtered out. “I get it. When he found out I made him vulnerable, he disappeared for three weeks and then he asked to see my back.  He thought I might be an angel, sent to destroy him. If you _had_ been immune, he couldn’t have trusted you. It would have been too much. For both of us to be immune? That would look like someone trying to go for checkmate, to him.”

Suddenly Lucifer’s paranoia didn’t look like paranoia anymore. But the bright side was, in this case, Ella hadn’t been immune, although she _was_ friends with his sister. The Angel of Death.

Ella pushed out her lower lip slightly, nodding thoughtfully, as she slowed the car to a silent stop at a red light.  “Exactly. I was pretty sure, already, that he was for real. But that was one of the reasons I decided I needed to really know.”

“So what was the second reason?”

Ella rolled her head, loosening tension in her shoulders, her gaze flickering to Chloe’s face and then back to the traffic light. “Right after that, I was laying on the ‘method actor’ stuff really thick, to cover how unnerved I was by how fast he zapped me, and he saw someone walking by. A guy in a trench coat. Lucifer went out after him, and I watched through the window. Two seconds later, and he was looking up at the guy, on the roof across the street.”

Chloe bit her lip, staring at Ella, dismayed. _How many clues like this did I miss, because I was so wrapped up in my work, in my own stuff?_

“Yeah. Probably one of his brothers. One of his _angel_ brothers. Remember, right after your ‘accident,’ Lucifer kept saying you were in danger from cosmic forces? Well, that Light I saw in him and all the other little clues kept telling me Lucifer was really _the_ Lucifer, so that meant that you really _were_ in danger. I wasn’t positive I wasn’t just legit crazy, but he was really worried about you, so I was, too. So, that’s when I figured it was time to know, for sure.”

Ella punched a button on the dash, and “Smooth,” by Santana started to play.  She kept it in the background, soft, but she couldn’t keep a little movement from her hips, even as the light changed and she maneuvered the agile Tesla down the boulevard, her ponytail swinging to the sultry beat. 

“And yeah, looking at his sparkly, Divine blood, I kinda freaked out,” she continued. “I thought I was completely prepared, but it was a lot harder to handle than I thought it would be. It wasn’t that I was afraid of Lucifer, though. It was just, well, _all_ of it. I wanted so badly to tell you, especially since I was certain you were in real danger, then. But I realized I couldn’t do that, that it had to come from Lucifer.”

She blew out a lungful of air, puffing a stray strand of dark hair away from her face. “I knew I couldn’t keep up the act with all that hanging over me, so I took a few days off to process, and I did a lot of praying.  I mean a _lot.”_

Chloe lifted her brows at that, putting that in the odd chronology that was her relationship with her unpredictable consultant/partner. He’d been so insistent that the whole encounter with Kemo Van Zandt had been engineered to put her in danger. After she insisted she would go home alone, he’d gone off with one of the most serious looks on his face she’d ever seen, saying he had something to attend to, and the next time she’d seen him… She grimaced, remembering.

“That was a terrible time for him.  I still don’t know what was behind it all. I should have known right from the first moment he showed up that something was wrong, but … I don’t know, maybe I was unnerved by the zombie wedding from H--” Suddenly Chloe realized she couldn’t get _that_ word out, the name of _that_ place, _because it was real._ And it was terrifying.

_I might not be as okay with all of this as I’m trying to be. It’s not Lucifer that scares me so much as it is the whole Hell-is-real-and-I-could-wind-up-there-forever thing._

She consciously cleared her mind and went back to her prior train of thought, shelving that dark blob for later.

Chloe covered her face with one hand. “I’ll never forgive myself.  I told him he looked like a ‘homeless magician.’ I am a _horrible_ person.”

“No, Chloe -- you didn’t know. It’s not your fault. We’re talking about Lucifer, here. The real, live Devil.  He’s wild enough even on his best day to drive anyone crazy.”

Chloe barely heard her.  She sighed and went on. “Yeah, but by the time I realized something was really wrong with him, it was too late.  He was way beyond just doing his usual annoying thing and into total self-destruct mode. Ella, he tried to get himself shot!” 

Chloe felt her throat tighten. Heat built behind her eyes as she remembered his, dark with self-hatred and despair, as he stood in a bright lobby with a woman in a lab coat hiding behind his tall frame.  

_“Could you be any worse of a shot?” His British accent made the words even more cutting as he taunted the sniper, who was purposely shooting around him, trying to get him out of the way._

_How nonchalantly he’d looked back at the woman, with such complete disregard for his own life, and said with disgust, “It’s like he’s not even trying!” Then he turned back and shouted, “Not her, you idiot,_ me! _Shoot_ me!”

_What kind of horrific agony must he have been in?_

_And what if that man had decided to take Lucifer out, just to get to the woman behind him?_ I _was close to him. It would have worked._

_Her imagination, fueled by years of memories of bullet-ridden corpses, provided full color video of Lucifer, one shot between his beautiful dark eyes, slumping lifeless to the floor._

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, shaking with the effort to hold back tears. Then she went on doggedly. “I wanted to be there for him so badly, but he just shut me out completely.” Chloe paused, then continued in a tone that ached with regret. “He said I couldn’t understand, that I never would. I wish I’d kept pushing, or just come to be with him, like when Father Frank died, but I… I just told him if he wouldn’t talk to me, to talk to his therapist.”

Ella glanced at her, sympathetic, her dark ponytail bobbing, even as she maneuvered the car through the nighttime traffic deftly. “I feel awful that I wasn’t around for him, either. Terrible timing on my part, and not what I meant to happen at all. But maybe we can make it up to him, now. I have a pretty good idea what happened, but I’m thinking it’s still a deep wound for him. Proceed with extreme caution, mi amiga.”

Chloe sighed. Ella was pulling into the emergency room drop off zone, so she had to cut the conversation short, though she was grateful that she had the brilliant little scientist to confide in. She stepped out of the car and turned back to meet her gaze.

“Thanks for helping with Trixie. And I _will_ be very careful, Ella. I will.”


	19. Burning Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linda tries to offer comfort to a sleeping Lucifer, but it backfires. Badly.

Linda would have liked to sit by Lucifer and take his hand as he slept, but his wings, still gloriously glowing with Divinity even as bedraggled as they were, were spread out in such a way that she couldn’t get that close. 

She stood by the bed and watched him sleeping for a moment. Still, she felt that pull of the Divine when she looked at his wings--awe, a touch of bliss--but she had learned to rein in these impulses over the years of working with him. Not that this was anything like the pull of his “carnal fascination,” but her willpower had been strengthened by resisting him, especially after she had realized that she _had_ to keep their relationship professional, for _his_ sake. She would never be _immune_ to his “charms,” though, and he could still throw her into a goofy, knee-wobbling mess with just a look or a word.

When he had swept her into his heal-the-Detective’s-Douche-fixation scheme, it had become so clear to her. He was in love with Chloe. 

She knew she _had_ to control herself, even when he didn’t, and as frustrating as it was, she knew she could never tell him that what he was feeling _was_ love. Even her leading him to the edge of it, the time he had asked to take Chloe to dinner, had been disastrous. It had sent him skittering off the cliff in a frozen panic.  

He’d had real fears about Chloe’s ability to handle the truth about him, but he had to learn to deal with these emotions himself. She’d known that even before he showed her his Devil face.

It had been puzzling, before, even with all her training -- how could such a charming, sophisticated, and intelligent man, who oozed charismatic power from every pore, have the emotional maturity of a three year old? She had seen the horrific scars on his back and had quietly made some assessments about his past involving repressed trauma. She had hoped to lead him through it when he was ready, and had thought it was the root of all of his delusion. 

That is, she did until the very day he showed her the Truth, with a capital, neon, flaming T. And though she had been wrong about the source of those scars, she had been dead on when it came to his history of trauma.

It made sense to her once she accepted his true nature. Souls didn’t have an opportunity for growth in Hell; that was the domain of Earth. He had truly never had to deal with empathy and the gentler, more subtle, but deeply profound emotions that came with it. Empathy, in Hell? Not good. _So_ not good. Dangerous, even.

So she kicked off her tan high heels, curled her legs to the side as she took a seat at the foot of the bed and smoothed out the lines of her red dress.  She watched the flames flicker across Lucifer’s face, half hidden in the pillow, his arms above the black blanket, one marred at the bicep by a reddened slash.  Hellfire slithered like bright fingers across his calves and feet, uncovered at the bottom, in the dim room. It was the only light, other than the diffuse, golden light filtering in from the back of the bar where his top shelf liquor collection stood silhouetted like a row of misfit soldiers awaiting final orders.

His exhaustion had taken him into a sleep so deep that she was fairly certain he would not be awakened by her touch, but she thought he needed the comfort, and hoped that he could accept it subconsciously, just to know that someone was there, a friend who cared.  

She found herself peering closely at the bottom of his exposed feet. Suddenly she realized how perfect they were. Of course there was not a single crack in his immortal heels, though these were  the feet that had carried him for eons through the horrors of Hell. If only she had been his reflexologist instead of his therapist, she might have known from the very beginning that no mortal human had such perfect feet.

The flicker of flame twisted his skin it as it crawled across his calves, his instep, his toes, and the balls of his feet, but left him unscathed in its wake, shifting relentlessly to ripple across his arches to his heels and back up again.  She couldn’t imagine how he slept through that; that it was not painful.  

_So this is what Lucifer’s guilt looks like._

Suddenly, she remembered the first time he had professed to feel that particular emotion.  Now, she felt an answering remorse. He had come to talk to her about his brother’s death, and she had derailed him, insisting he tell her the truth about his identity. And…

He had. 

Lucifer had shown her who he really was.  He had shown her the horror of his tortured side, a mask of burned, bloody, skinned agony. Raw and honest. Even then, she had seen the bitter pain of his soul, flayed naked for her eyes alone.

Even now, she remembered through her frozen shock, the oh-so-slight, hesitant, hopeful smile that had graced his returned angelic features for a microsecond after his revelation to her. She had seen his lips move, had known he was saying, “Doctor?” She could imagine now his plaintive, concerned tone, but the room had been buzzing loudly and she never heard it. 

And to her eternal shame, she remembered the expression of resigned despair that replaced that fragile hope so quickly, when he saw how devastated she had been.  As if he were thinking, _Of course. What did I expect?_

She had been so thunderstruck by that revelation she had never given him a chance to talk about his brother’s death. She couldn’t even remember his brother’s name -- everything that Lucifer had said prior to that moment of mind-bending enlightenment had been blown right out of her head.  Perhaps if she had, he wouldn’t have gotten stuck in Hell when he had killed himself to save Chloe.

_I’m so sorry, Lucifer. I’m only human._

Linda tugged the soft black blanket down to cover his perfect, hell-tainted, Archangel feet and laid her hand gently on his ankle. 

 

When Lucifer sank into sleep, he knew he would have to let go of a thin strand of control over this Hellfire that had taken over his body. It was only the eons of mastery of the element of Fire in all its forms that made it possible for him to submerge the pain of this manifestation of his guilt, his shame.  Cold-blooded killer that he was, he had laughed in Cain’s face as he drove him into Hell. No mercy.

His monstrous side.

He focused desperately on Chloe’s face, Ella’s face, to keep that last memory of how they looked at him as they had helped him to his bed.  What a wonder they were! That these two _good_ women would still care for him, knowing who he really was. Clinging to that image, he let go. And he fell.

And fell.

At first it was just darkness, softened by that memory of gentle care that he held in his heart so desperately. Eons in Hell had trained him to be aware at all times, alert to any danger, even as he rested. He sensed presences around him, heard soft voices. For once in his eternal life, he relaxed, trusting, recognizing the voices of his friends.  _His friends._ Ella’s voice. Chloe’s voice. Soft murmurs without meaning, nothing needing to be deciphered, just there in the gentle darkness, soothing.

Then. Silence. 

_Silence._

He had sunk too deep into the silky black to even react when the silence rippled with the murmurs of Maze, and Dr. Linda’s, and Daniel’s voices. 

The ripples ushered him into a dream.

Chloe, again, whispering softly. Here, there was no Hellfire across his body, though he was wearing, oddly, black cloth draped around him like a toga. He snapped open his wings and drifted slowly, holding her in his arms.  The Light of his stars sparkled, embracing them, resonating within him, caressing his brow as the black shifted to indigo.

Amenadiel flapped silently by, Daniel, mumbling indecipherably, slung over his back. At first his face was slack with shock as he stared at Lucifer, but then he seemed to find some humor in all of the insanity and stopped himself from chuckling with a grimace, as they disappeared into the distance.

Trying not to laugh, too, Chloe snorted, and Lucifer grinned back at her.  She was so adorable. 

_His miracle._

_His… miracle?_

Sudden clouds gathered on the horizon ahead. Lightning flashed in the night, thunder cracked in the distance. 

As quick as thought, the storm hit, suddenly upon them.

Lucifer lowered his head like a bull charging and roared, holding Chloe tight to his chest, his heart hammering against his ribcage, matching the roll of the wicked thunder.  

_You will NOT take her from me!_

He blasted through, his body flaring with lightning from within, arcing out to join the storm, and he swept his wings down, thrusting the two of them up, up, out of the dark clouds, curving into the stars… _He had to take her someplace safe._

_Heaven… Heaven…  He couldn’t see it. Where was Heaven? Where was the Silver City?_

Chloe clung to him, her wild blond hair tickling his chest, her breath at his throat, and that sweet touch was … _Heaven._

She _was his Heaven._

Pressure at his ankle.  He looked down. Cain clung to his foot, snarling, Maze’s knife sticking out of his chest. Lucifer tried to kick him off, but Cain raised a gun in his free hand, and aimed… aimed at Chloe, laughing. 

_Laughing. “Neither can you…”_

The shot rang out, and Chloe’s chest… 

He couldn’t see it, couldn’t look at it. In all the eons of torture and gore in Hell, nothing was as horrible as this. He held her body desperately, but in the same moment he saw her soul separate, floating up… And he was holding nothing.

Lucifer’s body burst into Hellfire, and this time it was out of control, agony. He felt his scream vibrating through his whole body.

Chloe’s spirit glowed, rising away from him, slowly turning in a graceful dance. She reached for him, beckoning… Light poured out of the night sky, opening for her, but he still couldn’t see the Silver City.

Reaching for her with everything that he was, his scream of eternal torture transformed into her name. Lucifer kicked at Cain, raging, twisting, his wings burning, but the Sinnerman was dragging him down.

And he fell. 

He Fell.

 

Linda felt Lucifer tense, the second she put her hand on him. In a flash of insight, too late, she realized that for an Archangel in Hell, a hand on his ankle was more likely to be a demon trying to drag him out of the sky than the reassuring touch of a friend. If he _were_ in a nightmare of Hell...

Lucifer screamed. 

Before she could speak, to reassure him, he kicked out of her grasp, and he was up, wings drawing close, spinning so fast she barely saw him move.  Then he was standing on the bed, back flattened against the wall, clutching the blanket in a mass to his chest, his battered wings and body flaring Hellfire with a vengeance.

Clutching the edge of the blanket in one fist, he stretched up as far as he could reach and screamed again, burning eyes open but unseeing. This time, she heard him choking out Chloe’s name.

Linda jumped up on the bed and reached for him.  He had warned her before that his wings were weaponized when he was “ruffled,” but she didn’t give it a thought.

“Lucifer! Lucifer! It’s OK! Chloe’s OK!” She yelled at him, trying to get through the haze of his nightmare, his agony. She slapped her hand on his flaming chest, hoping to get his attention.

It burned her. 

She snatched her hand back, but kept repeating as loudly as she could, “Chloe’s OK! She’s OK!” He was still gripping the black blanket stretched up across him, so she pushed her hands into it, against his chest, around his body, trying to ground him but careful not to touch his bare skin. He was so tall and she was so petite that she barely came up to his chest. 

“It’s OK, Lucifer, it’s OK. You’re home. Chloe’s safe. Everything’s OK,” she said, loud enough to get through to him, but soft enough to be soothing.

Finally, he seemed to understand where he was. He lowered his arm slowly and stood, shaking and panting, his wings trembling behind him, then looked down at her.  For a second, she felt herself being drawn into the fire in his eyes, but he squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head. “I… have to get this… under control… Where is the Detective?” 

“She’s OK, just had to get checked out at the hospital. Protocol.” She took a step back, her hands still at his chest, protected by the blanket. “I’m so sorry, Lucifer, I shouldn’t have touched you.  You seemed like you were so deep in sleep that it wouldn’t wake you. I was only trying to let you know you weren’t alone in this. When I saw that fire all over you...”

“It’s not your fault, Doctor. Do I…? Does this… burn _you_?”

Linda grimaced. “Um, well… Yep.”

Lucifer gave an exasperated sigh. “Doctor, you are a _good_ woman. You have absolutely no reason to feel guilty. Don’t tell me you think you deserve Hell for having a bit of shag time with _me,_ Doctor.”

Linda, seeing him more composed, backed away carefully, as they were both standing on the bed. “Well, that doesn’t exactly help, but no, that’s not it. You don’t know what I’ve done,” she said. Carefully, she sat on the edge of the bed, patting it to encourage him to settle down again. “But Lucifer, this isn’t about me right now. Do you want to talk about it? Your nightmare?” 

He straightened, still standing against the wall, and his wings gave an indignant fluff. His hair was a wild mass of curls. “Not particularly,” he said, while wrapping the blanket around his waist like a sarong.  

“Lucifer, you know that your dreams can help you understand your deepest emotions, right?”

“I’m not a child, Doctor.” Seeing him with fire in his eyes and flickering all over his body, this was quite evident to her already, though he extended his wings, threw himself down on the bed in a seated position and crossed his arms like one, all but pouting.  “And I know perfectly well what it meant.”

Linda was more rattled by his… _everything…_ than she wanted to admit.  She sat quietly for a moment, composing her thoughts.  She didn’t want to push him, but she knew his history, how quickly he could plunge into darkness and shut everyone, all his friends, out.

“Okay, Lucifer.  I’m not here as your therapist, tonight, I’m here as your friend.”

He started grabbing pillows, fluffing and punching, his movements jerky, like an aggravated eagle building a nest. Clearly agitated, he leaned forward and stuffed one under one wing and behind his back, arching, then settling as he turned piercing, burning eyes to her. 

“Why _are_ you here, Doctor?”

Linda closed her eyes quickly and turned her head, then flicked her gaze at him intermittently, like someone trying to peer into a harsh wind filled with sparks from a distant wildfire. 

Apparently he realized how he was affecting her, how rough he was being with her, with his Hellfire gaze. Through the flicker of her eyelashes she saw him lower his head. 

His voice came softer, then. “I… mean… Linda.” 

It was strange to hear him call her by her name, but by doing so, she understood that he was signalling his acceptance of her presence here as a friend, though she was quite sure she would go back to “Doctor,” the next time he barged into her office, appointment or no.  It wasn’t the first time he had called her by her first name, but he had always had a sense of the importance of names and their meanings.

His tone was not accusing, and she knew that he had never meant for it to be so, when he continued. “I didn’t expect to wake up with _you_ here, after all. Has something happened?”

“We came to warn you, actually…”

“We?” Lucifer narrowed his eyes, slightly.

“Maze and I. I know what you’re thinking, but she didn’t _give_ Cain her knife.  He drugged her and had her tied up at his hideout. She came stumbling into my office, all beat up after having fought _twelve_ of his goons to get free.” Linda paused, and let that sink in.  “Maze came to _save my life,_ and to warn you that Cain was luring you into a trap.”

He stared at the wall opposite for a moment, and a slight huff of air escaped his nostrils. _“Mazikeen…”_ he said, under his breath, and the gravity of Maze’s full name bore the memory of eons in those three syllables. There was a hint of a question, of wonder, as well. Then his burning gaze flickered to her, carefully, as if he were assessing the weight of her judgment.  Apparently, it was sufficient, as his shoulders eased a bit, tension melting from them.

“Well. That _might_ make up for her betrayal. A smidge.”

Linda smiled gently and hummed acceptance, then her gaze drifted across his battered wings. Her smile faded. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he was not pulling them in, and she didn’t think it was just because they needed a good scrubbing. “I’m so sorry.  Obviously, we were too late.”

“Yes. Well.” Lucifer flicked his brows up and widened his eyes for an instant, unsettled by her concern. There was regret in his eyes, too, a might-have-been that would now never be. “It was good of you to try.” 

He sighed. “Cain’s dead. I killed him.”

Reaching over, she folded the sheet over his hand as she placed hers over it.  It was as much to protect him as it was to protect her. He didn’t need any further guilt weighing on him. Not for what he would see as his very nature, hurting her. 

“Oh, Lucifer…” she whispered. She was certain the trauma he had been through just hours before was at the root of his nightmare. Clearly, he wanted to talk about it, but it was just too much to relive, at the moment.  She chose not to press him.

Patting his hand, she said, “I’m here, whenever you need me, okay? We’ll get through this.” 

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. She found herself plucking at straws, something to lift his spirits. She pulled her hand back, dropped both to her thighs. “Well, I see Chloe is taking all this with amazing fortitude. You should have seen her! She was worried about Maze, too, and she was ready to face her down, protecting you. Maze said she looked like a Hellhound, snarling at her like that.”

“She _what?”_ His British accent gave the word two syllables. This time his smile was genuine, imagining that.  Linda was sure that if his eyes hadn’t been burning, their darkness would have been sparkling with delight.

“Oh, yeah. She held a gun on her, even. She wouldn’t let Maze anywhere near you. But Maze misunderstood, at first.  She thought Chloe had killed you because all we could see of you, coming into the penthouse, was a bloody wing. Maze was all ready to do her demon thing on Chloe, then, so she does care about you. That was quite evident.”

“Ah. Is that so?” Lucifer’s smile quirked at the side. He sat up straighter, and his wings did another little fluff, oozing satisfaction this time. It was amazing how expressive he could be just with little movements of those wings.  They were so evidently a natural part of him, another pair of limbs that he used with exceptional grace. Unless, of course, he was annoyed by them; then it was his nature to flip them around carelessly and break things.

He fixed on a point on the wall across from the bed, apparently imagining the scene.  And then his smile faded, and he sighed.

“I know I should share that nightmare with you.  Just… not right now. I’m really still quite knackered.  And not just...physically.”

“That’s fine, Lucifer. Any time you feel up to it, I’m here. I really didn’t mean to wake you, anyway. You haven’t been sleeping that long -- I should let you get some more rest.”

He nodded. “Thank you,” he said, simply, but it was clear that his quiet statement of gratitude was for far more than just her letting him rest. Then his gaze slid to her, carefully.  She dropped hers, but kept him in her peripheral vision.

“I am able to help _you,_ now,” he offered, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. “Not _now,_ now,” he corrected, “But… I want to. I don’t care what you’ve done -- you do _not_ deserve Hell. Please don’t go getting yourself killed before I can do this for you, all right?”

Linda couldn’t resist turning her gaze to his. He looked away, quickly. She cocked her head, curious. “I have no idea what you mean, but I appreciate it, whatever you have in mind.  And you don’t have to worry about me, my job is rarely as dangerous as yours and Chloe’s. Usually, I’m dealing with compulsive shoppers and bedwetters.” 

She chuckled, and he smiled in return, but she could still see the weight of his concern in his posture.

“Right-o,” he said, and sighed deeply. With surprising grace, he pulled his left wing back deftly as he turned toward her and slid down on the bed, pulling a pillow under his head as he tugged his sarong blanket loose and spread it over his legs. With the fire all over him, he didn’t seem to want to get under any more cover than the one blanket. Both wings were now tucked behind him, his right wing curled forward over his lower body. 

“I am really, really looking forward to a shower in the morning.”

She smiled. “I bet.” She started to get up, then hesitated. “I’m happy to sit with you, if you like.”

“Oh, no, no, no need for that. You don’t have to do that. Don’t trouble yourself.” He closed his eyes for a second, then they popped open again, wide. “Unless you want to?”

This was as close as he would get to asking for anything he needed, she knew.  She leaned forward and flipped a bit of his bedcover over his hand, putting hers over it again, reassuring. 

“It’s no trouble, Lucifer. No trouble at all,” she said.

He nodded, sighed again, and closed his eyes, finally accepting her gift.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/29/19 - I hope you're all enjoying this! I'm sorry I missed posting this week; I'm having a bad breakthrough flare up of my rheumatoid arthritis, and I'm just not up to writing. I'll be back on it soon.


	20. Burning Razed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan drops Barrow at the precinct and gets another surprise.

When Dan walked into the precinct, he knew he was in trouble. Hustling Barrow along, he could feel the eyes on him the second he walked in the door.  He’d had to take the tape off of the man’s mouth, but thankfully, it seemed he was done with his taunts. All he did was smirk.

Barrow was the least of his concerns. Dan got him to processing, a wave of silence following him. Of course. There were plenty of people here who had Lucifer Morningstar’s fan pages in their newsfeed on social media. He’d probably had sex with everyone in the precinct, except Chloe and Ella.

No surprise, as soon as he had Barrow taken care of, slipped back out to get Charlotte’s files from the car, and finished the necessary paperwork, (which took a lot longer than he would have liked) a sweaty, white-faced uni tapped him on the shoulder.

“You’re wanted in Pier-- the former Lieutenant’s office.” The man looked like he’d just gone for a run and come home to find his house filled with zombies. Or hordes of demons. Or the Devil himself lounging in his Lazy Boy. 

Scratch everything else. It was definitely the Devil.

Dan took a deep breath and headed across the bullpen, which was strangely silent but for the still ringing phones and a few hushed whispers. Every eye in the place was on him. It felt like the time he walked out on stage, right into the blinding spotlight, to do a stand-up bit for the case involving the murdered comedian. 

The time the Devil threw tomatoes at him.

_Lucifer Morningstar. Telling pee wee penis jokes and throwing tomatoes. What a riot._

The way he’d last seen him, with Hellfire blazing in his eyes and roaming all over his body, didn’t mesh with that very well. But he still felt the pure touch of that fire that had cleansed his soul, too. He walked with a lighter step, now. The Devil, in spite of their differences, had his back. 

 _I’m_ not _going to Hell, thanks to that same Devil._

How they were going to deal with everyone in the precinct knowing that Lucifer was the actual Devil, too, though, he had no clue.

Halfway across the bullpen, which was as clear as the dancefloor at a wallflower convention, Dan pulled up short when a wiry, long-haired man dropped through the ceiling.

He was wearing black pants and knee-high boots wrapped around the ankles with spiked leather straps, and nothing else. The skin of his tightly muscled bare torso was dark, his hair was jet black and so long, it splayed down to his waist as he hit the floor right in front of Dan. 

His mouth tight with anger, he said nothing for a moment, and Dan just stared, still taking in every detail as he was trained to do. 

The man was slightly taller than Dan, but not nearly as tall as Lucifer. There were tattoos across his left shoulder that looked like flamelike feathers, others like runes trailing down his bicep. His right bicep was banded by a dark tattoo, inscribed with more runes, and he was wielding a black staff of twisted wood inlaid with streaks of sapphire, turquoise, and amethyst through the natural cracks along its length. 

His brown eyes glared into Dan’s, and for an instant, flashed with a purple light.

And his wings…

Not a man. An angel. One of Lucifer’s brothers.

And man, was he pissed.

His wings, still extended, were glossy black like his hair. Like a raven’s wings, translucent rainbows gleamed along their feathers. They rippled with restrained fury, one snap, and then the angel shrugged and folded them neatly into nothingness at his back.

“Visiting a police precinct in your so-called City of Angels,” he spat, “is not how I like to spend my Friday nights on Earth.”

Dan blinked. He looked around the precinct at all the shocked faces filled with gaping mouths, aimed in their direction, then back at the angel. “It hasn’t been the best night for me, either.” 

He scoffed, suddenly feeling like his head was going to explode with all this new celestial reality. At times like this, he began to question his sanity. At what point did he actually lose his mind? Was it after… Charlotte? Would he wake up in a mental hospital someday and realize all of this was in his head? 

Bringing his focus back to the being before him, he continued. “So, are you one of the fallen ones? No pun intended, but, who the Hell _are_ you?”

“No, I’m not _Fallen,”_ the angel practically snarled. “I’m Raziel. _Archangel_ Raziel. The Keeper of Secrets. And you’ve given me a _whole_ lot of work I didn’t need. Not to mention you tried to _kill my brother.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's very short. And a cliffhanger. But with the season change, I've been in a lot of pain from my rheumatoid arthritis. I'd probably still be hurting if it weren't for Raven, the man I've based this new character on. He's a friend, and a fantastic massage therapist! I'm actually working on a painting of him as Raziel, which I'll be posting soon.


	21. Burning Pure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella comes to take Trixie to Lucifer's penthouse.

“Hi! I’m Ella! It’s so good to meet you!” Ella stepped forward, her arms open, smiling her brightest smile. Olga raised her hands to fend off the intended hug, gave her the barest glance and a disgusted grunt, then waddled by her and down the walkway with the ponderous, rocking, unstoppable momentum of a 19th century train.

Ella spared only one dismayed second to watch the grouchy babysitter make her way to her car, but stayed focused on her mission.  Trixie would be showing the world her bright, undaunted Light, but Ella knew the little girl held some heavy weight inside. Chloe had shared on a Tribe night just how deeply she had been affected by the unintended consequence, and benefit, of Lucifer’s Spawn-napping escapade to Starford, that unconventional school whose draw was the unfulfilled promise of emotional control.  

That had been a strange time for Ella, knowing that Lucifer was _actually_ the Devil and being unable to share this with anyone, least of all her therapist. So many times she had been a hair away from letting him know the jig was up, with her. When she had confided in him that there was a “lot of darkness,” behind her eyes, she had practically been screaming telepathically to him to get her drift, but he had simply turned it into another smarmy, totally inappropriate moment between them, one with, thankfully, no real heat behind it. 

She had trusted him when he had asked her forbearance on the case at Soul Depot, but the connection between the empty not-a-grave gravesite, his fascination with the knife, which went missing, and his sudden need to learn emotional control wasn’t lost on her.  The knife seemed to have the power to turn perfectly sweet people like Corrina into bloodthirsty killers. Along with the fact that he felt it was important to keep it and any knowledge of it away from Chloe and her, it had added up to some celestial scheming that was scarily beyond the pale. 

But what could _she_ do, other than what she was doing, what she was best at? She just kept up the hugs, showered Christlike love on the Devil himself whenever she could, and used her “Rainman brain,” as Lucifer had called it, to pick up on what was really going on with him wherever she could. The rest had to be left to Lucifer and Chloe.

When she stepped into the living room and saw Trixie peeking at her over the back of the couch, she felt an instant bond with the little girl that went deep. Ella had seen the deets that pointed to Trixie’s knowledge of Lucifer’s true nature as far back as the day she had come to visit Chloe in the hospital after her poisoning.  After Chloe had been wheeled out to ICU with the antidote, she had seen Trixie sitting by Lucifer, who was slumped in a chair in the hallway, head back, hair tousled and shirt open, fast asleep. The way Trixie had looked at him, with such utter gratitude and absolute faith in his power to save her mother’s life, was a clear sign, but Ella had never confirmed her certainty.

There had also been slightly reddened marks on his chest, like healing electrical burns. There was only one way he could have gotten that formula.  Even if Trixie didn’t have all the dots to connect, it was clear she knew he had done something beyond the ken of normal humans, for her mother’s sake.

Considering how many times that Ella had been _OMG!_ smacked between the eyebrows with his blatant Devilishness, it was clear that Chloe was in serious denial.  As with Lucifer, she felt she had to wait to share her knowledge with Trixie, until Chloe could accept this reality or Lucifer had bucked up the cajones to reveal his truth to her. She was giddy with relief that this day had finally come, though it had swept in on a maelstrom of misery -- the loss of Charlotte.

Normally, Ella would have expected Trixie to be the one to open the door and greet her, but the caution she had shown, in allowing Olga the Albanian Freight Train to greet her instead, was telling.

“Ella! Sushi shirt sister!” Trixie exclaimed, tossing aside her fuzzy blanket and nearly knocking a bowl of popcorn off the coffee table as she bounded out from behind the couch. Ella knelt and wrapped her arms around the little girl, who was not quite as little as she had been when they had worn those matching shirts. She was growing so fast!

“Hey there, my little sushi buddy! So good…” Ella started, but before she could say anything else, Trixie pulled back and gave her a direct look.

“How’s Mom? Is she really all right? She wouldn’t tell me much, and I couldn’t get _anything_ out of Olga.” The worry in her brown eyes was heartbreaking.  

“She’s fine, nothing but a bruise,” Ella hurried to inform her. “Checking in at the hospital is really just for the precinct’s sake.  Protocol, you know.” Ella patted her shoulders and gave Trixie her most reassuring nod and smile.

“And Daddy? And Lucifer? He’s OK, right? He was there to save her?”

“Dan’s fine.  And yes, Lucifer was there to save her. And he’s fine, too… well, now.” Ella hesitated only an instant, before deciding to just trust her instincts. She had gone over several scenarios in her head on the drive here from the hospital, several ways to rip off the ol’ band aid.  

“Listen, Trix, I couldn’t say anything before, but, you know… I know who Lucifer really is. And I think you do, too, right?”

Trixie’s eyes went wide.  “You know, too? That is so cool! Did you see him on YouTube?  Or what?”

“YouTube?  You saw that?”

“I sure did. He saved Daddy, and a whole busload of people!” Trixie’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement, then she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I was supposed to be doing my homework, but I subscribe to Lucifer’s fan pages. I figure if anything … important happened, it would show up there, right? I keep them in the background. You won’t tell, will you?”

“Oh, no, no, no no no. Not a peep,” Ella assured her.  “But honestly, I don’t think your Mom is going to be too worried about _that._ She _knows_ about Lucifer, now, too. And I’ve known pretty much since the first time I met him. Well, not _known_ known, but I was pretty sure. It was a little while before I scrunched up my courage to look at some real proof.” Ella got to her feet, one hand resting on Trixie’s shoulder.

“Finally! Mom knows!” Trixie crowed, dislodging Ella’s reassuring touch with a fist pump while dashing back to the couch. She did a graceful spin dive onto it. She patted the couch beside her. “Is she… OK with it all? You _have_ to tell me everything! Like, why was Daddy driving down Hollywood Boulevard so fast?”

“Er.. uh…” Ella, for once, found herself struggling for words. _How much should I tell her about that? Maybe I should leave the really bad stuff to Dan to confess?_

“Your mom seems to be handling it all pretty well, actually. I mean, Lucifer _flew_ her away from …” Unsure how Trixie felt about Pierce/Cain, Ella censored herself quickly, “… the bad guys! I think that made a big difference in how she took it all in.  Of course, she has a lot of questions she still needs answered -- I do, too, really. Like wow, how does he do that stuff with his wings, you know? That’s just a-maze-balls!”  

Trixie’s grin was transforming from awed to expectant, and Ella could see she was impatient to hear about her dad, too, so she wrangled her train of thought back on track. “But your dad… Well, the truth is, your dad didn’t take finding out about Lucifer so well.  He was scared of him, you know? And he was coming to get _you._ His first thought was to protect you.”

“From _Lucifer?”_ Trixie’s voice, high already, squeaked. “Well, that’s just silly. Lucifer _saved_ me! And Mom. From the bad man… Malcolm.” Her hesitation at his name showed just how deeply affected she still was by the kidnapping.

“Well… Seeing Lucifer.. Um… like he is, now?  It’s a little … much.”

“Like he is, now? OH. His wings. And all on fire.  He’s okay, right? It doesn’t hurt him, does it?”

Ella felt herself blush, thinking about the moment she’d walked out on the balcony with Lucifer, earlier. 

“Nah, he handles it fine.” She cleared her throat, hiding her mouth with one hand.

Trixie was sharp, though, and she caught her discomfiture.  She smirked.

“Pretty hot, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows, for all the world like a mini-me Lucifer.

“No! Um… Yes, but… Trix, he’s like a brother to me! Stop that!  How old are you anyway? Ten going on twenty-five?” Ella darted to the couch and snagged a pillow, laughing as she bopped her sassy little friend on the head. Trixie snatched it from her, surprisingly fast, and grinned at her over it. Apparently, training with Maze had done wonders for her reflexes, if nothing for her innocence.

Ella widened her eyes, impressed, and shifted from foot to foot, changing the subject quickly.  “Speaking of seeing Lucifer, I told your mom I’d take you back over to his penthouse…”

Before she could finish her thought, Trixie was off like a shot to her bedroom, feet pattering softly in her footed Frozen jammies, skidding expertly as she took the turn. “I’ll get changed!”

Ella called after her, “We can talk more on the way, okay? Need help packing a bag?”

“Nope, I got it! Thanks, Ella!” Trixie called from the bedroom amidst the sound of drawers scraping as she yanked them open. Ella chuckled when Trixie popped her head back out of the open doorway, smile wide.

“This is going to be _so… much… fun!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11/24/19 Sorry for the delay! I wanted to write more, after a scene change, but I thought I should go ahead and post this. I know you've all been waiting for a while, after all.


	22. Burning Divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe at the hospital considers her new perception of reality with Lucifer.

When Chloe walked into the emergency room and saw the massive crowd of people already there, she resigned herself to settle in for the night there in the waiting room.  Fortunately, when she went up to the receptionist and told her that she was a cop and had been shot (while wearing a vest), and that she thought she was only suffering from a bad bruise, gears behind the scenes began to turn. A decision was apparently made to bump her up in the line, since she wouldn’t be taking up the doctor’s time anyway. As she wasn’t bleeding out on the floor, she wouldn’t be needing more than a quick trip to X-ray.

Chloe’s first wait was no more than fifteen minutes. While she sat, her thoughts crowded around her like Dickensian orphans, eyes pleading, hands out. 

The bullet could have been an inch higher, or hit in a seam of the vest, which had been known to be a fatal failure. She knew she had been lucky.

_Or rather, blessed._

Turning her eyes quickly Heavenward, she remembered that profound flash of emotion that had swept her with her first simple prayer -- _God, is this what you want for your son?_

It wasn’t clear what that terrible sadness had signified, but whatever Lucifer was suffering, now, she felt certain that his Father had no part in it. If there had been any filter between her and that emotional flood that had hit her, it was only for her benefit.

She had _so many questions_ for Lucifer, but she knew that she would have to reserve judgment -- on God -- where he was concerned. Her own lack of belief had come from years of exposure to the cruelty of humanity.  How much more was Lucifer’s hatred, condemned to seeing only the worst of the worst in Hell, for eons? What had really happened between Lucifer and his Father? How would he take it if she told him what she’d felt? _She_ didn’t even know how to feel about it. 

When she was called back for the initial exam, she went through the motions in a haze. It was unreal, smiling and offering her arm for the blood pressure cuff, all the while thinking, _What would this nurse say if she knew my partner is Lucifer Morningstar? The actual Devil, whose “Dad” is God Himself?_ And she had to wonder if the young redhead could have possibly seen the videos of Lucifer in action.

“Busy night,” she hazarded, to which the nurse rolled her eyes and nodded. 

“Nonstop since noon, when I came on.  Typical Friday night. I’ll be off shortly, though, at midnight.”

So, no. She would have been working, not much chance to browse YouTube.

Another wait in the emergency exam room, while she stared at a talking head on mute and her thoughts whirred with images of Lucifer, roaring, in flight, wings aflame, soaring above the car he was lifting _with one hand,_ while her ex-husband squirmed under his other arm.

After the harried doctor gave her a two minute once-over, shaking his head in amazement at her fortune and reminding her, again, how lucky she was -- _blessed, Doc --_ to be alive, she sat facing the wide mouth gun of the X-ray machine.  It was aimed at the huge bruise where Pierce’s bullet struck her. Unreality hit again. 

_“Lucifer. Morningstar.”_

_“Lucifer… Morningstar… Is that a stage name or something?”_

_“God given, I’m afraid.”_

So long ago, those first words. And now, only hours before, Lucifer Morningstar, her partner these last years, had shielded her with his wings _\-- his wings! --_ and then saved her life yet again by _flying_ her away from danger, up into the sky far above this City of Angels.

Lucifer Morningstar was not the eccentric playboy she’d thought he was until the moment she saw those horrid scars on his back.  But he wasn’t the emotionally wounded, mentally unstable, abused son of an unfathomably cruel, but human, father that she’d seen him as after that, either. 

He was truly a Son of God. The brightest Archangel, if there was any truth to the stories told through the ages. Once favorite, turned rebel -- and still rebellious enough to have his own wings sliced from his back. 

But was it his rebellious nature that drove him to do that?  Or something else?

Lucifer was _the_ Lucifer. The Devil. 

“Detective Decker? We’re done, here.” The tech, a young, dark-haired man, called her back from her reverie, and she jumped to her feet, apologizing, wondering how many times he’d had to call her name.  He rushed to seat her back in the wheelchair in accordance with hospital policy, and then wheeled her back down the busy hallway to the curtained exam room where she waited even longer for the x-rays to be processed.

 _Everything Lucifer ever told me was absolutely true._  

And now, Lucifer, the Devil, was sleeping in his penthouse with those wings, somehow regrown, splayed out around him, battered and bloody. All because he’d taken over a hundred bullets in them to save _her_.  Could there possibly be any evil, ulterior motive behind _that?_

If the Devil was not evil, was God good? But if he _was_ evil, then did God _make_ him that way? How can goodness create evil, and still be good? 

So maybe he never _was_ evil?

Chloe suddenly remembered Ella’s eyes as she shared her story of peering at the Light in Lucifer’s blood, the wonderful hope she’d seen in her gaze.  

 _That’s not how God_ made _him._

She squeezed her eyes shut, a headache creeping up to throb behind her eyes, piercing through the center of her forehead between her brows.  This was the most she’d thought about God since… she didn’t know when. When did she decide that God didn’t make sense? Which gruesome murder of an innocent was the tipping point? 

Maybe it was the day her own father died.

 _Lucifer._ The name had lost its underlying significance somewhere between the first time she’d been shot (and Lucifer had saved her life) and the time she’d shoved him out the glass doors to be with “his people” at the not-a-virgin (anymore, thanks to Lucifer) football star’s party.  Denuded of all echoes of “evil incarnate,” now, it just meant… 

Him.

As it should? Quirky, emotionally clueless, sometimes -- except, of course, when it came to hidden desires. Vain, definitely, yet a vanity that couched deep self-loathing, so deep that he would taunt a sniper to take him down. 

 _So many questions…_ Lucifer was a mystery hidden in dark, guileless eyes.

But he had never lied to her, not about who he was. She could argue that standing her up that time had been a lie, but technically, what he had offered was to “buy her dinner,” and he had fulfilled that promise. Way too late, after painful damage had been done, but still… He had kept his word to the letter, if she were to carefully parse every syllable. But she had never allowed him to tell his side of the story, why he hadn’t shown up. And she was going to want to know what was up with Candy Morningstar and so many other strange choices he had made.

She truly believed that he was a punisher of evil, not evil himself. He had helped her on countless cases these last years, even though his perception of guilt and who was truly deserving of punishment sometimes had veered radically from her own, from any normal human’s understanding of those terms.

But… Not human. Lucifer really had been the King of Hell.  Now his utter disregard for the empty corpses made complete sense. He knew where those souls were headed. 

_Lying in a pool of blood, gasping, “I don’t want to die,” only to look up into his dark eyes above her, to see his gentle smile.  “I won’t let you. Father will just have to wait for you.”_

He _knew_ she was going to Heaven, some day. And then it hit her. His eyes, after Charlotte’s death, when he said, “At least you’ll get to see her again, Detective. Eventually. In Heaven. But I... Sadly, she’s gone somewhere I simply can't follow.”

_And somewhere he won’t be able to follow me._

At that thought, a terrible weight descended on her, her gut clenching. She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes still closed, but a slew of images of his face, his dark eyes, paraded through her mind’s eye, of all the times he padded along behind her like some too-tall puppy, following her lead.  Someday she wouldn’t be able to turn around to see his smile of “extreme glee.” Even if that day was the day she went to Heaven, could it really be Heaven for her without him? She tightened her jaw as heat built behind her eyes, trying to will it away.

 _What is this? Am I really feeling this -- for the Devil?_  

_But then, what did it mean when we were in the alley, and he said he wasn’t sure he saw himself as the Devil anymore either?  Is that what his wings growing back means? That he wasn’t the Devil anymore?_

_Only now, he’s_ burning... 

“Oh, God,” she whispered. _We have to help him!_

Her heart opened with compassion for her partner, in her sudden certainty that it was only his immense will that kept the flames that covered him from leaving him writhing in agony.  

And then it hit her that she was actually calling on Lucifer’s Father _. God._

Something happened inside her, something she had never felt before, then. It was like … shining.  It bloomed inside her, an invisible Light. She was awash in it, an immense glow from inside and all around her.  A touch of pure bliss, pure, absolute _joy._  

The word, _joy,_ resounded in her mind.  It was something more than she had ever imagined, something more than just an empty, glittered, calligraphic arrangement of letters on a Christmas card. It was something that came from within, invulnerable to any outer storm.

_Wait, that counted as a prayer?_

Clearly, it had. And it seemed Lucifer’s father, God, was letting her know He was right there with her on that.

_Yes. We have to help him._

She wasn’t sure, in that moment, if that thought was only hers, or theirs.  Or if there was any difference at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/6/2019 - I apologize yet again for late, short chapters, but I hope you enjoy this! I do know where I'm going with this story, though sometimes I just have to let go, and out come the wings! Writing "on the fly," so to speak.
> 
> I will try to do better on the writing schedule, I promise! It's going to be a wild ride...


	23. Burning Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan confronts Raziel.

Dan lifted his hands, palm out, backing away from the furious Archangel before him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa…  I … I didn’t… How do _you_ know that?”  

As soon as the question left his mouth, he realized the stupidity of it. 

Raziel narrowed his eyes, pridefully puffing out his bare chest slightly and jabbing a thumb toward himself. “Keeper. Of. Secrets. Not just of our Father’s. ALL secrets. If _you_ want it to stay hidden, _I know it.”_

Then the Archangel tightened his lips briefly, blinked, and gave a hint of a shrug, deflating a bit.  

“And, well, Rae-rae told me.”

Dan cocked his head, puzzled, and huffed an incongruous bark of a laugh.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a _secret,_ you know. She just filled in the details,” Raziel continued, bristling.

“Rae-rae? Who the Hell is Rae-rae?”

“You know her as Azrael,” Raziel semi-explained. 

“Wait, Azrael? _She?”_ Dan furrowed his brow as the name tickled at the back of his brain, from his Catholic upbringing. Azrael had been mentioned as a non-Catholic belief to be shunned.  _Oh… Lucifer was talking to someone in the car.  His sister?_

Then it clicked. “The Angel of Death? Lucifer’s _sister?”_

Raziel punctuated his realization with a sharp rap of his staff on the precinct floor and a brilliant if vicious grin, startling him and every single person in the brightly lit room, all of whom were staring at them in wide-mouthed amazement. Even the people who were just stepping through the doors, off the elevators, or out of offices and had not seen the Archangel’s wings were pausing, staring. Raziel commanded attention even if he were passing as a human.  He stood in the middle of the bullpen, gleaming black hair flowing across his feather-tattooed shoulder and down his bare back and chest as he glared at Dan like some Apache brave itching for a fight to the glorious death.

“Now you’re getting it.” Raziel smirked and took a slow step toward Dan.  Dan couldn’t help but back away again.

“Whoa, listen, I… I didn’t mean…”

“You didn’t mean to unload _five_ bullets into my brother’s chest?” Raziel lifted his staff and spun it expertly at his side, casually threatening. He cocked his head, birdlike, a raven peering at a bug. “Tell me, just _how_ does that happen by accident?”

“Wait, wait, wait! I thought…” Dan huffed and dropped his hands, flipped his palms out and opened his arms. “Look, he’s _the Devil!_  I’m surprised you even _care,_ the way he talks about his family abandoning him. I thought someone in Heaven _wanted_ him dead. But I… Listen, I know I was wrong.  I’m sorry. And, you know, I think _he’s_ actually forgiven me, somewhat. So… maybe you could, too?”

Raziel paused, eyes still narrowed, then slowly let his staff rest on the floor again. He scoffed.  _“Abandon_ him? _I_ didn’t…” He tightened his lips quickly.  

“Wait… He’s… forgiven you?  For nearly _killing_ him? That…” He stared at him in silence for a beat, then his eyes flashed purple again. He seemed to look through Dan, behind his eyes, down into his heart. 

“You’re… clean.”

Dan breathed out, realizing he’d been holding his breath, and he felt his relief like a breeze flowing through him.  Just being reminded of that again was wondrous. He smiled, broadly. “Yeah,” he said.

“How…?” Raziel started, brown eyes widening.

Then Dan narrowed his eyes and lifted a finger. _“You_ don’t know?”

Raziel bristled again. “Is it a _secret? No?_ ” He rolled his eyes. “Look, I know virtually zip when it comes to Lucifer. _He doesn’t lie._ No secrets.” He relaxed his shoulders and chuckled. “As if you could get him to _shut up,_ even.”

Dan chuckled with him, starting to relax a little. “You got that right.” 

 _Wow, am I actually bonding with this archangel over_ Lucifer? 

But then Charlotte crossed his mind, that Lucifer had kept Pierce’s… Cain’s… Sinnerman identity secret.  Standing in the middle of the precinct, suddenly a wave of unreality swept him as the name of his former boss froze in his thoughts.  His smile faded quickly, and he suddenly became aware of the nearly silent room around him, all eyes on the two of them, as if they were performing some bizarre play.

Raziel followed his gaze, and nodded. “Yeeeaah…” he said softly. “About time for me to do my thing.”

Dan looked back at him, suddenly nervous. _His thing? Keeper of Secrets…_ He had a feeling he couldn’t name, a fear that something was going to be taken away and there was nothing he, a puny human, could do about it. 

“What? Wait, there’s something… I need to know. You knew about … Cain?” It wasn’t really a question, but it begged an answer.

Raziel’s gaze softened for the first time. “Yes, I knew.” He sighed. “And I know where you’re going with this.  I knew because it was Cain’s secret, not Lucifer’s.”

“But he--”

“Look, it’s not really my place to weigh in, but it wasn’t his secret to tell. You wouldn’t have believed him.  Not without proof. And Cain was a very, very dangerous man. I know a _lot_ about _him._ He made it clear to Lucifer that he had killed the loved ones of his enemies before, and Lucifer knew he would do it again.” Raziel paused. “Cain... mentioned... _your_ daughter.”

Dan stared at him, his eyes filling with heat, brimming with tears. _Trixie? That bastard would have killed Trixie?_

“Even if my brother could somehow have made you believe him, knowing would only have put your daughter in Cain’s sights, until you had proof to take him down,” Raziel continued, his tone firm but gentle.  

Nodding reluctantly, Dan clenched his jaw. 

“Charlotte…” Dan started, but he couldn’t say a single word more. 

At this point, Raziel’s gaze shifted to a kind of peaceful sympathy, and he reached out slowly to clasp Dan’s shoulder.

“Charlotte _got_ that proof, if she could only have put it together.” 

Dan sucked in a hard gasp that felt like gravel in his tight throat. “Please,” he said, his voice catching, turning the word into a whispered plea for mercy. “Is she…?”

“She is with us,” Raziel said, his smile soft. “She saved Amenadiel’s life. She’s fine.”

Dan couldn’t take anymore.  He put his hands up to his face and shuddered, hiding his tears.  He felt Raziel squeeze his shoulder gently before releasing him.  

He had never felt so alone before in his life, standing in the middle of the precinct with all eyes on him, crying like a child. _She’s fine._ It was grief and it was joy.  _Shining_ joy washed over him and lit him up from inside.

Raziel’s words echoed in his heart, as he heard the archangel step back from him. _She’s fine. She’s fine._

“You’re going to be okay, Daniel Espinoza,” the archangel said. “And only those who are _ready_ to know,” he whispered, “will know what was revealed this night.”

Dan swept his elbow up and wiped away his tears with his jacket sleeve, opening reddened eyes to peer toward Raziel.  

The light in the room seemed to be darkening, though it had nothing to do with the harsh fluorescent lights. The archangel stepped back further, smoothly bowing as if beginning a sacred dance, his staff held out straight from his side. Slowly, he unfurled his raven black wings, silent. Those officers, staff, the occasional criminal who had come late to the show, standing on the edges of the room, at the doors, at the elevator, gasped, then ceased to breathe. He had no idea how Raziel was doing it, but even the telephones’ incessant ringing stopped, and the bullpen fell utterly still, darkness blooming like ink dropped in water.

Dan flicked his gaze about the room, noting all the familiar faces: his former partner McMillan, seated at his desk to Dan’s right; the new rookie that he’d nodded at the last time he’d been in the break room -- he thought her name was Joan? -- frozen over to his left, mid-step, her arms full of files; all the other officers at their desks, some seated, others leaning over desks, still others with phones to their ears; and through the glass enclosed offices, suited men and women in various poses. 

All eyes glued to the Archangel Raziel.  

All frozen in shock, mouths gaping.

Raziel closed his eyes and began to spin slowly as he brought his staff up, over his head. The purple, blue and green stones embedded in the staff started glowing, throbbing as if in time to the archangel’s heart, slow at first, then faster as he began to spin the staff from one hand to the other.  His heavy, spiked boots whispered as he moved, his steps light in them, effortlessly, angelically graceful, his black hair flowing around him. The throbbing light of the staff hummed and a sound like the beat of a drum, ancient music, reverberated around him, soft at first, just below conscious awareness, slowly growing louder.

Darker and darker the room grew, but Raziel’s body was limned in Light, his glossy black wings shimmering and shedding translucent rainbows through the shadows growing in the room.

And then he began to sing. An ancient song, a language from the beginning of time, and yet his deep voice vibrated with echoes of tribal chants, originating from one Source, now split into tones of the forgotten songs of the Cherokee, the Sioux, the Apache, the Hopi -- tribes known and unknown, warriors still fighting to survive and those lost forever.

Waves of light flowed from him, from his wings, from his hair as he spun, colors rippling through the dark room, violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red, rainbows flashing out as a deep thrumming emanated from his tightly muscled form. His tattoo, the flame-like feathers sweeping down across his shoulder, began to burn with a violet outline. As he dipped his shoulder spinning the staff around him, Dan realized the feathers were wings, emanating from a raven centered on the top of his shoulder, one down his chest and the other down his back.

Faster and faster Raziel spun, sometimes stretching up and other times sweeping low, one leg stretched out before him or trailing to his side. He extended one black wing before him as he spun, the other curled back, every movement precise, perfect, powerful, and, Dan had to admit, violently beautiful.

He gaped, huffing a laugh.  _No homo, but_ damn...

And then Dan saw him open his eyes. They glowed with purple light, fierce and brilliant. His song shifted into a low, primal roar as he spun on one booted foot, cocking the other high, slowly coming to a halt. The emeralds, sapphires and amethysts in his staff were now glowing with a nearly steady throb, blinding bright, as if the archangel’s heart was close to bursting. Somehow, Dan knew he was aligned precisely north/south. 

Arms extended above his head, Raziel slapped the spinning staff into his palm, seated both his hands on it, spread wide, and leapt into the air, kicking out with perfect form as he whipped his wings forward with a warrior’s scream.  It reminded Dan of the crane kick in the final fight of the Karate Kid.

Thunder cracked, impossibly loud, ozone sizzling in the air as a rainbow wave flashed out from him.  He landed lightly on the same foot that he had lashed out with, then pulled his black wings in tight to his back and cut a twisting back flip, landing facing the opposite direction on the other foot and flaring his wings again.  Again, he leapt into the air and performed a precise kick, snapping his wings forward to send the thundering spectrum of light in a wave out to the south, screaming with celestial force.

This time, when he landed, he slammed both feet down with a final crack, and the tattoo on his shoulder blazed with purple luminescence as shimmers of sparkling magic zipped in tendrils from everywhere around him into it. Reality flickered in a flash of white. 

Dan blinked. 

Raziel was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my characterization of the Archangel Raziel! I read somewhere he's supposed to have light blue wings, and is associated with no one color, but all of them, the rainbow. I'd already decided to accentuate the translucent rainbows seen on raven's wings with him, so that was a cool validation. Light blue wings though? Nah! I'm making him a badass!  
> Can't really take credit - this is practically my friend Raven, with wings, so I might just pop of photo of him in here until I can get his painting finished. Would you like that? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> *Edit* I put Raven's photo on Tumblr. If you're interested, there he'll be!
> 
> 12/22/2019 If there's anyone out there who has some police procedural knowledge, I could use some input at this point! I've been dreading (a little bit, I realize) going into this part of the story because I know I have so little knowledge of that. You could really help me keep plowing through. Let me know in the comments, or reach out to me on Tumblr, (which is another thing I'm totally epic failing at figuring out, but I think I can tell if I get a message?) Thank you so much!


	24. Burning Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe heads back to the penthouse and Dan walks into the Lieutenant's office.

On the Uber ride back to the penthouse, Chloe was still in a Divine bliss haze, until her route took her close by the precinct and she saw strange thunderheads forming directly over the spire of the Los Angeles Police Headquarters. They did not look normal.  They were inky black and the lightning flashing through them seemed to be every color imaginable, something like a cross between a thunderbolt and a rainbow.

Considering that was where Dan currently was at the moment, she had to wonder if maybe not all of Lucifer’s siblings were against him, since it seemed, now, his Father wasn’t. That is, if she could trust these strange emotional responses to her first prayers. 

But perhaps someone was going for a little Divine retribution without consulting Lucifer or his Dad? Communication wasn’t one of the celestials' greatest skills, obviously.

 _I really do hope Dan’s OK! Yeah, he freaked out, but really, can I blame him? I’m sure in his own mind he was protecting all of us._ Still, even as she thought this, the image of Lucifer lying on the floor with his ragged wings extended popped into her mind’s eye with a nasty embellishment: bloody bullet holes in his shirt and Ella beside him, both of them glassy-eyed in death.  A sick clenching knotted in her stomach.

Chloe watched the horizon anxiously out of the back window, since they were heading west northwest and the spire was receding in the distance, though not quickly enough for her.

“Hey, would you mind stepping it up a bit?” she said to the young man at the wheel.

Blue eyes met hers from the rear view mirror. “Uh, I’m kind of a new driver here, and I’m already doing the speed limit…”

She bit her lip and sent laser eyes his way. She had asked the nurses to contact Ella for the Uber and was feeling the lack of a phone dearly. _I really need to get back. Quick._

Against her better judgment, she pointed out the phenomenon to him. “Yeah, we really need to get moving in the opposite direction from _that_. Most likely.”

Eyes wide, he sped up.

Ten minutes later (it should have been fifteen), the strange, rainbow lightning thunderstorm had spread all over Los Angeles.

It turned out the driver had been on Hollywood Blvd when Lucifer had made his global debut, and he was not too happy with her destination. He kept trying to talk her out of going to Lux, and telling her that “that guy is _actually_ the Devil.”  But when he asked her, “If the world is ending, do you really want to be anywhere near, uh, Lucifer Morningstar?” she couldn’t take any more.

 _Right by his side is_ exactly _where I’d want to be._ The thought was fierce, surprising even herself.

“Stop the car!” 

Chloe thumped the back of the seat frantically.  They were right in front of Lux, but she didn’t want to go into the underground garage.  She wanted to take a good look at this strange storm taking over the night sky.

There was a large crowd gathered around the front entrance and it looked like bad news for Lucifer.  They were the same crowd that had followed Rev. Williams, way back when, and now they had seen for themselves what their demised leader had been talking about. Their new leader was a younger man, standing in their midst with a bullhorn, whipping them all into a frenzy. Their signs read, “Satan is HERE!” “The Devil owns your SOUL!” “GOD is your only HOPE!” 

Well, bingo on the first, and she honestly couldn’t completely disagree with the last one, considering the Divinity buzz she was riding out, but still, why didn’t it seem to register with them that Lucifer had saved a busload of people, and that he was also a Son of the God they declared such devotion for? Once favorite, in fact, although now, remembering that conversation with Lucifer where he declared that some ancient book had named Amenadiel as God’s favorite son, she had to wonder. Good parents didn’t play favorites with their children. Where had all these ideas come from?

She thanked the driver tersely, ignoring his continued concerned pleas, and jumped from the car, looking up at the strange storm, then around at the faces in the crowd around her.  Men and women, from old to young, though it was too late at night for children to be out, surrounded her, all shapes and colors. They stood in fear, mostly silent, the deep thrumming that she had only felt before, just under her conscious awareness, now drowning out their whispered words. Many looked up with her, wide-eyed, toward where the blackness boiled out of the east southeast, others stared up at the spire of Lucifer’s building, confusion written on their faces. Maybe they were wondering why this blackness was not centered above the spire of the Devil’s lair?

She could hear now, clearly, what the street preacher was saying. 

“He calls himself the Devil, and tonight he has revealed himself! Many of you saw it -- do not deny the truth of your own eyes! You who have rejected the Word of God, you have been given a final chance to redeem your faithlessness, tonight! Time is up! Stand up for your God, NOW! Warriors of God, FIGHT! Fight against the Evil, so blatantly revealed in your midst! Your eternal soul is at stake!”

Chloe started across the street toward the crowd, and as she did, the blackness above the buildings slowly dropped down into street level.  Wind whipped around them all, around her, and she shoved her unbound hair out of her face, reaching for the badge at her hip. Wild flickers of rainbow colored lightning flashed everywhere while the thrumming quickened and intensified, but she kept marching toward the street preacher. There was nothing she could do about this supernatural lightshow all around her, but she could stop this maniac from threatening Lucifer.

“LAPD!” she yelled, holding her badge out before her like a shield of protection. The crowd turned to look at her and parted before her as she plowed through them. “Step down, now, Reverend, or I _will_ arrest you for inciting a riot.”

The reverend turned, still holding a Bible above his head, and now she got a good look at him. He was tall, blond hair to his broad shoulders, and his eyes were bright blue, wild with fanatic fervor stoked by real fear. He would be considered attractive by most, but to Chloe in this moment, that just made him dangerously charismatic.

“You! Harlot of Satan!” he snarled, pure hatred gleaming in his eyes. “How _dare_ you! You bare yourself to incite men to lust, and now stand beside the Devil himself!”

Chloe felt as if he’d slapped her. She couldn’t deny the shame that washed over her, the horror that he could judge her so cruelly, without ever allowing her to speak a word for herself. 

She never had a chance to respond.  

At that moment, a crack of immense thunder rolled over the City of Angels, over them, followed an instant later by a second, reverberating south. 

The whirling lightning seemed to find its focus. 

A rainbow bolt slammed into the street preacher’s chest and instantly withdrew.  

All around her, people were struck, straight into their hearts. Not everyone, but most of those in the crowd around her. They stood, frozen, as sparkling rainbow bolts zipped back toward the southeast, in complete and utter silence.

A woman beside her dropped her hastily scrawled sign that declared in red letters, “SATAN is HERE!” and Chloe watched in amazement as the letters on it bled to white, then reformed with blue. The new message was, “GOD is LOVE.”

White flickered and reality shifted.

Gone were the inky shadow clouds and the strange, rainbow lightning.  She was standing on the sidewalk before Lux, and though the street preacher and his crowd were still all around her, the chaotic energy was like any other Friday night on Hollywood Blvd. The ominous heaviness and the fear of apocalypse was instantly gone.

The young reverend stood on his makeshift stage, his Bible held aloft and the bullhorn at his side.  He blinked down at her, and then his gaze flickered around him, his brow furrowed. He returned his gaze to her, frowning, lowering the Bible to his side.

“You’re … Detective Decker, aren’t you? Chloe Decker… I am _so_ sorry…” he said, and his eyes, bereft of the fear-induced hatred, were actually _kind._ The crowd around them, the lights and the sounds of the busy boulevard almost drowned out his words. “We were supposed to meet down the street…  I guess we drifted too far this way. I … Why in the world am I here in front of _this_ place?”

Chloe drew on her acting skills to hide her shock. _What in the world is happening? He’s forgotten all about Lucifer’s global debut?_

She reached out toward him and touched his forearm gently. “It’s alright, just move along.  You’re not permitted to block business entrances. I’m sure you know that.”

He nodded, stepping down from his platform hastily. “Thank you.  We will. Again, I apologize.”

She started to move on past him, but he reached toward her, extending one finger from the Bible he held to touch her arm. “Detective Decker…”

Turning back, she met shy blue eyes.  He glanced toward the entrance of Lux, then back to her.  “If you ever want to talk about the love of God…” Setting his bullhorn at his feet, he pulled a card from the front of his Bible to hand to her. “I’m here. As your brother in Christ.”

Chloe got a weird flash in her mind’s eye of the _other_ street preacher, snarling in her face, and almost refused. _Which is the real him?  Is this who he really is without the terror of the Devil looming over him? Of Hell? Or was the other who he is in his heart, unleashed?_

He gave her a tentative smile.  “God really _does_ love you, you know,” he said.

She looked down at the card and then back up in his eyes. He seemed completely sincere, just a man devoted to God and concerned about her soul.  

As a detective, she decided she should take it just to keep an eye on him.

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” she said, plucking it from his hand with a polite smile, and headed into Lux.

*** 

Dan looked around the precinct, trying to get his bearings. Everyone around him was back in motion, like any other busy Friday night heading into the wee hours of Saturday morning.  There was a hint of tension that wasn’t usually there, surreptitious gazes following him and hastily turned away when he turned in that direction, but nothing like before Raziel’s appearance.  

If he had to hazard a guess, he’d figure this was what the buzz would be like on any night, with the added complication of the death of the Lieutenant. 

There were a few people who were staring at him, wide-eyed, though.  The rookie, for one, was still standing frozen, and when he met her gaze, she just swallowed hard and almost lost her grip on the files she was carrying. The officer at the desk beside her gave her a good-natured whoop and called, “Nice save! That was a hell of a disaster avoided!”  She just gave the officer a slightly panicked look and a nervous chuckle, tightening her hold on the files, then glanced back at Dan.

He gave her a slow nod, acknowledging, and was rewarded with a hesitant smile.  She continued on her way with, if not renewed confidence, at least a steadier step, assured that she was not alone. And not battling a psychotic break.

The archangel’s words echoed in his mind. _“... only those who are ready to know will know what was revealed this night.” What did Raziel do? Wipe everyone’s memories? Well, that’s one way to keep a secret._

He took a moment to turn and make a mental note of who those “ready” might be, here in the precinct.  Trying to disguise what he was doing as just a moment of checklisting, he lowered his head and raised a hand to his chin, pondering, while he let his gaze continue around the room.

There weren’t many, but he could tell them by the awed stares they were directing his way, the way they were looking around with puzzled looks on their faces. Each one he acknowledged, as subtly as he possibly could.

None, he noticed, were among the officers he knew to be corrupt from his former look-the-other-way days. Those looks were poker face glares, quickly concealed.

He steeled himself for the battle, and headed into the office, wondering who would be there.

Before he grasped the handle, the door opened and a middle-aged, balding, paunchy man stepped out, a scowl on his face. Dan had seen him once before around the office.  He had been coming by for a lunch meeting with Pierce.  

Dan broke out in a cold sweat.  _If he’s in charge, we’re in deep--_

 “... called in prematurely. Enjoy your vacay, Harrison.  I’ve got this,” came a cheerful voice from within the glassed in office, the owner concealed by the opening door.  It was spoken with an Indian lilt. The voice was oddly familiar…

The man, Harrison, glared daggers at Dan and stomped past.

Dan hesitated, taking a deep, cleansing breath before stepping into the office. 

Everything was exactly the same as when Pierce was in charge, the room somewhat dimly lit, the windowed wall open to the night sky. The difference was that there was a young, dark-haired woman seated before the desk, tapping away on a tablet, taking notes.  Behind the desk, a slim man stood, his hands clasped behind him as he peered out at the Los Angeles skyline. He was wearing a well fitted black suit and, from the collar that Dan could see with the man’s back to him, a dark indigo purple shirt. He was also wearing a black…  turban. 

He turned and rounded the desk, moving briskly, and reached to shake hands with Dan. 

“Palinget Singh, Interpol,” he said. He glanced toward the young assistant, then back to Dan. 

And winked.

Dan found himself looking into the piercing brown eyes of the Archangel Raziel.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! May you all be blessed in every single moment!


	25. Interlude for Interview?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just experimenting, here. Popping in a video. Would you like to see the real life "Raziel"?
> 
> 1/31/20 -- I did a couple of videos with Raven, but I'm not happy with how they turned out. I'm just going to use them to experiment with video editing, sorry! Hopefully, I can get him to do something when he comes back, and I'll have learned enough to make it a decent video.

<https://youtu.be/AbiuSzSWyuk>


	26. Burning through the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella waits at the penthouse, while Chloe makes her way back.

Ella stood at the window wall in Lucifer’s bedroom, her nose glued to the glass. The freaky rainbow thunderstorm had just blinked out, but she was still struggling to throw down with her impatience. As she had watched it cover the city, she had been terribly tempted to wake Lucifer, but he was so exhausted she managed to resist. From what Linda had said before she left, he was also deeply traumatized by what had happened with Cain. He really needed to heal and rest much more than he was letting on, so even if there was something he could do about whatever it was, he wasn’t in any kind of shape to face it.  

So she’d just done what she always did in situations that were beyond her control.  In spite of her doubts and confusion about the Big Guy’s responsibility in the whole situation with Charlotte and her questions about his relationship with his son Lucifer, _her friend,_ she wasn’t going to stop talking to him. 

Ella prayed.

And though she didn’t get an answer in words, she had a definite sense of peace, that everything was not just going to be okay, but _was_ okay. She was still dying to know what it all meant, but it was just her curiosity now, not outright heebie-jeebie terror that the world might be ending because Lucifer had revealed the Truth.

Trixie had slept through the whole mind-blowing lightshow, and was still asleep on the couch in the living room, popcorn scattered on the coffee table.  The TV was silent now, the first run of “Frozen,” having been enough for the overly-excited and now exhausted little girl to slip into a peaceful sleep.  

Her response, on seeing Lucifer’s wings, had been adorable. Ella had to stop Trixie from pouncing on him despite the fire that still covered him, though she was certain it wouldn’t hurt her, and they’d stood in the doorway, speaking in whispers. First question, of course, because Trixie was Trixie, was “Is he really OK?” and she continued with, “That looks bad! You sure I shouldn’t have brought my medical kit?  He’s going to need a LOT of bandaids!”

Ella reassured her, again, that he was fine and no bandaids were needed. The next thing out of Trixie’s mouth, delivered with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin, was, “Do you think he’ll take me flying when he wakes up?”

Pulling away from the windowpane, Ella gazed back at the winged Devil in question, a half smile tugging at her lips at the memory. She had to admit, she was hoping for a flight someday, too.

Lucifer had flipped over in his sleep twice.  First, so that he was facing the windowed wall instead of the doorway toward the bar, and now he was back to facing away.  It had been maneuvers that he managed with strange, fluffed grace. In spite of the dangerous nature of his pinions and the ragged alignment of his feathers, of course his own wings didn’t harm _him._ His wings moved so naturally, like his arms, but when he’d pulled them around he’d flung the blanket off.  She’d had to carefully replace it, grimacing, averting her eyes, and holding her breath.

So, now, she slipped back onto the bed beside him and carefully took his flaming hand, but first she had to make some adjustments…

***

Chloe headed into Lux, which was now closed to the public.  The dancers were huddled at one of the wide, curved booths, whispering and wide-eyed, and when she went back by the bar, Patrick was standing with both hands on the dark counter, his eyes down, pale and trembling.

Maze stood beside him, one hand on his shoulder. “Get it together. It’s not Judgement Day,” Chloe heard her tell him.  “Lucifer would know, all right? That preacher’s a nutjob. Nobody’s getting past me, either, so don’t be a wuss.” Since she was still battered and bandaged, the words were not quite as reassuring as they could have been, but he did seem to calm a bit.

_So, Patrick’s in the know? Well, Lucifer has never tried to hide it, and I bet he’s seen some stuff. I wonder if all of the other employees are believers?_

She wondered also how much Maze knew now about what had happened with Dan, but all she wanted was to get back to Lucifer and deal with that later, so she just headed past with her head down and a thumb up, hoping Maze wouldn’t start anything when she saw the determination she was doing her best to emblazon on her features.

Making it into the elevator, she turned with a sigh as the doors closed. _Okay, so this is it. I’m standing by Lucifer, and I think his Dad’s OK with that.  I hope I’m not just fooling myself. These … wow, just calling them feelings doesn’t seem to fit… moments of Divine touch? are so beyond anything I’ve ever known._

She watched the numbers light up as she ascended, pondering. _Whatever this is that I’m feeling in relation to God -- his Dad -- I’m going to have to be careful approaching Lucifer with it. He has been at odds with Him for eons_ _and he’s bound to be suspicious. I want some questions answered first, too._

As the numbers ticked off, she pulled her thoughts into a checklist of things she wanted to talk to Lucifer about, a coping technique that had helped her manage many a chaotic situation. First off, she wanted to know if he knew what that weird storm was about. Second, she wanted a full accounting of every case they’d worked on and everything that he had been up to behind the scenes. Third, she definitely wanted to hear what his explanation for blowing her off for a stripper in Las Vegas was. And fourth, there was that odd message among the commentary on the videos that was sticking with her, that she wanted to look into. _Razrunner… Life and death?_

Taking another deep breath, she released it as the elevator doors opened and stepped out.  The first thing she saw was Trixie curled up peacefully on the couch. She headed over, through the dim lighting of the penthouse. 

The evidence of Lucifer’s wounding was gone, so she guessed that Ella had probably mopped up the trail of blood.  The mess now was spilled popcorn kernels on the coffee table. The TV and entertainment center were a new addition to the penthouse, and it had been unobtrusively closed, earlier.  Now, “Frozen” was frozen in a still on the TV, paused. 

She tiptoed over, quietly. Not wanting to wake her, she caressed her daughter’s dark hair so very gently, and laid a kiss on her forehead. Straightening, she turned to look toward the bedroom.

_Ella must be in there. She must have heard the elevator, but I guess she’s being quiet so as not to wake Lucifer?_

At that thought, she remembered the blown-pupil look in Ella’s eyes the last time she had seen her near Lucifer, her response to his scent. _Uh oh._

She walked over quietly to the open doorway of his bedroom that faced the bar.

Lucifer was turned to face her and Ella…

Ella was sitting on the bed, holding his hand, and when she turned and looked up, Chloe had to try hard not to burst out laughing and wake Lucifer and Trixie.

White tissues were stuffed in Ella’s nostrils, dangling like extravagant mustaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know this is short, AGAIN! I hope you enjoy it anyway! I've been preoccupied with Raven's departure, and though I planned to add another scene, it just didn't happen. Next chapter should get into the meat that your mouths are watering for, hopefully.


	27. Burning Softly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raziel gets down to more mundane work, and Chloe makes it back to the penthouse.

After Raziel got Charlotte’s files from Daniel Espinoza, he stepped out the door with him as he dismissed him, and leaned in to his ear with a smirk. Dropping his accent, he whispered, “Tell my brother I said, ‘You’re welcome.’”

Dan made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a freak out laugh, nodded and hurried away.

Raziel then went back to the desk that had formerly been Cain’s and sat, turning the chair toward the window.  He found it rather disgusting to be sitting there after the world’s first murderer had made it his space. Raziel could feel the darkness of his foul secrets in the room, the negative energy the man had generated over millennia, like something rancid soaked into the furniture. He sniffed, though it wasn’t actually a scent he was picking up, and tried to hide his sneer of disgust from his assistant.

“I apologize for keeping you so late, Ms. Bennett,” he said over his shoulder in his cheery Indian lilt. “I am quite certain we will have this situation cleared up within the week. You should be able to return to your lovely family quite soon. Have a good night.”

“Thank you, sir. You, too.” The young assistant smiled as she snapped her tablet/laptop shut and headed for the door.

Once alone, he was tempted to shut the blinds and take off his jacket, shirt, and turban. Yes, secrets were a part of his nature, and this disguise let him blend into an office atmosphere without anyone batting an eye, but he felt its restrictions as if his wings had been bound in celestial chains. Though it was a part of his power, it didn’t feel natural.

His true nature was wild, steeped in mysterious darkness, the complete opposite of his brother, the Lightbringer, who adored all the affectations of human society.

Even allowing himself to endure human birth and growth to adulthood among them, as Uriel had suggested, had not changed that.

***

_So, that’s how Ella Lopez deals with the Devil’s temptations. Tissues stuffed up her nose!_

Somehow Chloe managed to stifle her giggle, while Ella grinned and silently beckoned her closer, then pointed at her hand over Lucifer’s, indicating the two of them should make a smooth switch. Another game of Twister ensued, but they managed to make the transition without waking him.

As she took the other woman’s place, she whispered to her, “Please stay,” and gave her a pleading look. 

Snatching the tissues from her nostrils with a wide smile, Ella nodded. “Not going anywhere, especially after that freaky storm,” she whispered back. “Something tells me this is the best place to be, right now.” 

Though she claimed to have her own reasons to stay, understanding shone in Ella’s eyes as she backed out of the dim bedroom.

Chloe was beyond grateful for the little scientist’s presence. Somehow, knowing that Ella had it all figured out from the beginning and, for the most part, had taken it all in stride helped her deal with the cosmic confusion. She was able to quiet the whispers of terror that had been sparked in her lizard brain when she had first seen Lucifer’s -- what could she call it? She couldn’t call it his _real_ face, not unless _he_ said it was. 

They had a _lot_ to talk about. 

So, for now, it was just his “other” face.

Touching his flaming hand was electric, but as before, it didn’t burn. The Hellfire felt strange under her palm, indescribable, just … wrong, and a little “icky,” as Trixie might say, but not painful.  Still, the weird wrongness of it was outweighed by the compassionate connection she felt with her partner of three years, holding his hand. 

Her gaze fell on his wings, softly glowing with Divinity, even as ragged and blood-stained as they were. This man -- no, this ancient being -- had saved her life yet again. Something tight and strained in her chest loosened up at that thought, and her eyes burned with tears unshed.

She kicked off her short boots quietly and curled on her side, watching the flickers roam across the Devil’s perfectly symmetrical features.

***

Linda’s reassuring story of Chloe’s protectiveness had been a salve to Lucifer’s -- what should he call it? -- anxiety? Could he own this tightness in his belly as simply that?

He’d fallen into a more peaceful sleep this time around, with the connection to Linda, the light pressure of her hand on his, ever-present in his subconscious. Somehow that fragile link helped him to hang on to his shield against the Hellfire that was weeping through his skin and raging in his soul.

Sleep stole his awareness, though, so that he didn’t know when the guard changed, and the hand that belonged to Linda became Ella’s.

But somehow he felt it soul-deep when that hand became Chloe’s.

He opened his eyes, and found himself looking into her beautiful teal irises.

_Wonder of wonders…_

Lying on her side facing him, she smiled softly.  “Go back to sleep, Lucifer. We’re here. You’re OK.”

Lucifer smirked sleepily back at her and closed his eyes again, sighing deeply. “As you command, my dear Detective…” he murmured. 

Finally, his was the domain of the present, and he shooed away the nightmare, grasping this precious moment with both hands. 

_Hell can wait._

_***_

Raziel put his hand on Charlotte’s files and closed his eyes. He felt her spirit through these secrets she had guarded with her life, working to find the key to Cain’s downfall. He felt a deeper connection with her in that she had taken on his own purpose.  It was ingrained in his being to protect those who protected others through the ages, from his siblings acting as guardians to the first enforcers of the law, to these modern day police officers and attorneys. 

It was also spirit-deep, this revulsion in his soul for those who corrupted that and used their power to harass and exploit the ones they were meant to serve. That had been a major drive in his “human” experience, and he hadn’t even had a clue why he hated cops so much, then.

Raziel had been seeing Cain’s secrets since the day he tried to lie to Dad about killing his brother, and when the immortal murderer had chosen to create this criminal network that slid insidious fingers into every lawful, protective establishment, his frustration with his limitations as the _Keeper_ of Secrets was immeasurable.

Still, he understood that humanity’s free will was sacrosanct.  The time of revelation was fast approaching, though. He could feel it in his very bones. With the measure of those who had been exposed to Lucifer’s truth and had been ready to face the Divine and the Infernal with courage and compassion, he knew a domino effect was still in the works.

Opening his eyes, he slid his hand across Charlotte’s files, his heart aching with his failure to protect her. He drew a deep breath and released the ache with its cleansing exhalation, remembering the moment when Amenadiel had appeared in the Silver City with Charlotte in his arms. 

Both of them had been laughing with Divine joy.

_But the answer to pinning guilt on Cain for his Sinnerman network had been in her grasp, and she never knew it.  Chloe’s ring…_

An image of the engagement ring that Cain had acquired from a fence in his network flashed in Raziel’s mind. How revolted Chloe would have been to know that the ring he gave her was payment for a Sinnerman favor -- killing the fence’s ex-wife years before.

Suddenly another image crackled across it, so abrupt that he hissed and squeezed his eyes shut against the superimposed vision.  

_An onyx square in a silverish setting._

This vision came to him as all other secrets did, but it was disconnected from any human thought and had a strange loop to it, like harshly reverberating feedback from a microphone.

 Lifting a hand to his brow, Raziel narrowed his eyes at nothing, his focus shattered. He shook his head, puzzled.

_File it for later. It feels… unfinished._

Trusting that he would know what he needed to know when it was appropriate, he turned back to the computer on his desk. His fingers flew across the keyboard, sending out messages to his coworkers in Interpol, official orders to clean out the corruption within and outside the Department now that finally, _finally,_ Cain was dead.  As always, he was careful not to reveal anything that was not known through human action. It was sometimes difficult, but there was a reason _deus ex machina_ was a flawed approach, and not just in storytelling.  

 _The one who_ gives _you the answer is not your friend._

The last communications were to those inside the Los Angeles Police Department that he had sensed were still aware. These last letters were personal, attuned to each soul’s need. Many of these people were intersected with those who were critical in rounding up the Sinnerman network before a new boss could try to step into the vacuum created by their once immortal leader.

Chafing a bit at the limitations of human communication, he found his thoughts straying to Aspen.

Raziel grit his teeth. He shelved his irritation, along with the painful thoughts of the silver streaked hair that he had longed to caress and the wise green eyes that had awakened him. 

Even while somehow hiding a secret. From _him_ , the Keeper of Secrets. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/30/20 - I'm working on a much longer chapter now, so I hope you don't mind the delay. I think I'm coming to the Home stretch. Hang in with me!


	28. Burning Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Chloe awaken, and he shares some of his secrets. Trixie and Ella say good morning to the Devil and the Detective.

Lucifer opened his eyes to find Chloe opening hers at the same moment. With the softened sunlight filtered through the gauzy black curtains of the west-facing window coming over his shoulder, her eyes brightened to blue. Between them, Hellfire still engulfed his hand, but it was covered by her smaller one.  

His transition into awakening was smooth, his emotional firebreak firmly in place. Instead of blazing pain, the first thing he felt was an immense wave of gratitude beyond anything he’d ever felt.

Even knowing who he really was, his _friends_ had actually stuck with him. 

Then, flashes of the dream early in the evening that had ended in nightmare flipped through his mind. _Chloe… drifting into the Light above him..._

But his sleep since had been dreamless. They had definitely helped him through the night.

“You’re … still here,” he whispered, wonder in his voice.

She was silent for a moment, her awareness returning.  He could see in her eyes as everything came back to her, pieces falling back into place, her gaze falling into his. 

This was the moment of Truth. It had to be quite jarring to have the first thing she saw upon awakening be the Hellfire in his eyes, but at least he’d been able to restrain the full Devil face horror.

Something flickered in her eyes, but it wasn’t exactly fear. If he had to put a name to it, it was awe.  It was followed closely by concern. _Compassion, even?_

Chloe just made a soft sound, a murmur of assent.  “Did you sleep well?”

He noticed her white shirt and bulletproof vest was gone, though she was still wearing the grey overshirt. It pained him to see the dark purple bruise marring her skin, just at the edge of it. And, being the Devil, it also enraged him.

_Cain, you bloody bastard. Enjoy Hell._

One hand was curled at her breasts. Chloe slid that hand forward and caught his palm before lifting her other up, as if afraid to let him go even for a second. Her gaze flicked up to his hair, as her hand hovered briefly before she touched one of his unruly curls. As always, she calmed him.

 _How is this possible? How can she care for_ me _? The_ Devil _?_

Again, images from his nightmare flickered in his mind in answer to her question. _Chloe, in the storm, the blast of a single gunshot… Cain, clinging to his heel…_

He tightened his lips, battling with his internal honesty meter. It seemed the Hellfire had consumed his poker face.  He saw in her eyes it was too late for anything but the whole truth.

“It was a little rough earlier, when the Doctor… when Linda was here.”  He lowered his gaze. “I had a… a n…”

His stomach clenched. _Nope. That’s all I can handle of that. Besides, she’s not my mum, and I’m not a silly child, needing her to comfort me._ He took a deep breath, and let it go. _Stash it for the Doctor._

Raising his gaze to hers again, he tried on a smirk. “I have to admit, I had something else in mind for our first time sleeping together.”

Chloe huffed, but smiled, turning her head slightly into the pillow.  “You Devil, you,” she said, playing along. 

His smirk turned into a full, amazed grin.  _She’s actually joking about it?_ They shared a close moment, smiling into each other’s eyes, but then she pursed her lips and dropped her gaze for a second. He could tell she wasn’t buying his little evasion. Her gaze returned, more direct, sober, startling blue.

“It’s OK, Lucifer. I’m here. I’ll help you get through this. It’s to be expected, to have some… confusion… after something like this.”

He felt himself shutting down. It was too much, too raw.

“I can’t talk about it right now. Perhaps later.”  

She nodded. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

He turned his head, raising his right wing to inspect it. “Ugh. Bloody awful. I’m strangely clean, but my wings are a wreck.”

Chloe drew in a breath. “Mhm. You still smell fantastic.” She paused and bit her lip, struggling with her next question.  “Is it OK… I mean, can I… Is there anything I can do to help with your wings? I mean, I don’t know angel etiquette, so if I shouldn’t touch them…”

He turned back to look at her, mouth open. A half smile twisting his lips, he gave a soft huff.  “You want to... preen me?”

She chuckled, blushing. “Well, if you need help.  It can’t be easy to reach all those feathers,” she rushed to explain.  

She was beyond adorable, trying to act like it was just something she was offering to do for him, when he could see by the way she looked at his wings that she was, for once, not entirely immune to something of his power.The Divine part of his power. And with that thought, his smile faded. 

_Is she really accepting all of me? Or does she just see the angelic, still? Even with the truth bloody flaming in her face?_

_Do I really want her to?_

So attuned to every nuance of his face, she instantly picked up on his hesitation, even if she did misunderstand its cause. “Oh, I’m sorry, I guess it’s probably not something you do, letting a … a human…  touch your wings…”  

He couldn’t bear the disappointment in her eyes, as she blinked and dropped her gaze, embarrassed. He was getting better at this emotion thing, and he found it made him … uncomfortable… to see her separate herself from him. As an inferior being, no less.

Now he rushed to erase her shame. “Oh, no, no, it’s not that. I... I’d love your help.” 

The instant brightness in her eyes chased away his shadows effortlessly.  “Really?”

“Of course. There’s no rule against it. And, as you know, I’m not much for rules, anyway. Breaking them, yes. Following them, sadly, no.”  He pulled a mocking moue, eliciting a giggle from her that made him feel warm inside.

It was strange how they were both tiptoeing around the sleeping elephant in the room, and yet he felt comfortable with it.  Perhaps he just needed to stay in this moment, for now. This precious moment.

Made even more precious by its inevitable end. 

Padding feet skidded across the floor. Trixie appeared in the doorless archway, clad in Frozen jammies and followed closely by Miss Lopez, who was muttering “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” while sleepily attempting to restrain the Spawn from gleefully barreling up the stairs and leaping onto his bed.

“Lucifer! You’re awake!” the Spawn declared.

“Yes, Captain Obvious, I am,” he drawled, lifting himself on one arm and letting his wing fall back behind him again.

Chloe was turning to her back, propping herself up on her elbows, but she didn’t let go of his hand. She even added a little squeeze as she looked at the Spawn.

Something weird happened, like the soft _snick_ that he felt under his hand when a lock fell open under his power, only this was in his belly, shivering up into his chest. 

 _Hm. Maybe she has a power of her own.  She unlocks_ me. 

“Morning, Monkey,” she said.

“Morning, Mom!”  The Spawn was freed when Miss Lopez’s hand slipped from her shoulder, and she bounded up the stairs toward her mother, dark eyes sparkling. “Isn’t this cool? Now you know, too!”

 _Whomp!_ And she was on the bed, wrapping all her stickiness around her mother. “Don’t you just love his wings?” she said, eyes closed in bliss.

Chloe nodded and glanced over at him, giving him a shy smile. 

_Amazing what that does to me. Just a look from her and my insides expand into galaxies..._

The Spawn snuggled for a second, then raised her head from her mother’s breast and peeked over at him.

“Wow, Lucifer, your hair’s all curly!”

Lucifer gaped, then barked a short laugh. _That’s what she comments on, right off?_ But the Spawn wasn’t done, yet.  She opened her mouth again.

_Here it comes..._

“And this is the first time I’ve seen you with your eyes open, all flamey and stuff.”

The sleeping elephant jolted awake and trumpeted in horror.

 _Am I ever going to get this Hellfire under control? Or is this it?_ Grimacing, he turned his head, his dangerous gaze, away. 

“Trix…” Chloe whispered, admonishing.

“What? It’s awesome!”

“I’m glad _someone_ thinks so,” he muttered.

Her little face pinched with worry. “Wait… Ella said it doesn’t hurt you, right? You’re OK?”

Lucifer turned back to her slowly and carefully met her innocent gaze. As expected, she was fine, just as Miss Lopez had been. _The beautiful shield of purity._ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chloe’s eyes on him, sensed her intensely focused on his face, parsing his response.  He _felt_ her concern.  It was new for him, this link to her emotions. 

 _Is this what humans call_ empathy?

“I… can handle it,” he said. 

The aforementioned Ella cleared her throat from the archway and gave a nervous little wave.  “Hi, guys!” she chirped. Continuing on, she swung a bent strongarm. “How about I rustle up some breakfast?”

“I vote pancakes!” The Spawn turned back to Miss Lopez, excited at the prospect.

“Sure. That good with you two? You okay with me scrounging around in your kitchen?”

“Make yourself at home.” He raised an eyebrow at Chloe, and she nodded. “As the Spawn desires, so shall it be. Pancakes it is.”

“Want to help make the batter, Trix?” Miss Lopez, ever wise, was maneuvering some privacy for them. 

“Sure!” The child bounced out of bed and scampered down the stairs.

Once she was out of earshot, Miss Lopez hesitated, leaning forward in the archway. She spoke quietly, almost mouthing the question, concern evident in her wide, dark eyes. “Was I wrong?”

Lucifer was finding himself a little overwhelmed at all this compassion on his behalf. It was _Hellfire_ they were talking about. He was _the Devil._ He looked at her for a moment, then just gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. 

She didn’t move, just kept watching him. More would be required, apparently.

“I’m all right.  Just… letting go, to sleep.  It’s difficult, sometimes. In the transition.”

The little scientist nodded, understanding, lips tightening slightly, then grimaced and made a clicking sound, tongue against teeth. “Yeah… that’s gotta be tough.” Sighing deeply, as if breathing through pain with him, she continued, “You’re going to be OK, buddy.  We’ll figure it out.” 

Giving the Assyrian wall a pat, she backed away, turning to head for the kitchen area.

“Miss Lopez…”

She stopped and turned back, expectant, brows up.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Beside him, Chloe offered her a tremulous smile, adding her gratitude with a silent nod.

Miss Lopez dipped her head in acknowledgment, almost a bow.

Suddenly he felt like a King again, and he shifted his flaming gaze toward the woman beside him and dared to think that perhaps… perhaps…

_Have I found my Queen?_

Miss Lopez then glanced between the two of them and gave them a pirate’s smile. “You two are so cute,” she just had to add, before skipping off to make breakfast.

Lucifer shared a look with Chloe.  “Cute? Me? How dare she!” he huffed, but he couldn’t hold back his smile.

***

Chloe’s gaze was drawn inexorably to Lucifer’s Hellfire eyes once again. Even as he smiled, revealing his outrage to be false, his irises burned with the flames of eternal torment.

She was looking into the eyes of Lucifer, the King of Hell. 

 _Retired. And his curls are adorable. Heaven forbid I should tell_ him _that, though._

She yawned.

Truth be told, she really hadn’t slept much. She’d spent the night staring at him, her thoughts swirling around in her head, and only as the sky had grayed with the coming dawn had she drifted into sleep.

Rather than let go of his hand, she turned toward him and covered her mouth with her free hand. That was where her mind was, now. 

_Don’t let go._

But the night had been long. He had said she was strong -- “an amazingly strong woman” -- but the truth was, she had been at the lowest point in her life when it came to confidence in her own judgment, even worse than when Dan had been gas-lighting her about Malcolm. After all, she had run to what she thought was safety, in Pierce’s arms, and he had turned out to be Cain, the first murderer. 

And now, she had come to sleep with the Devil. _Well,_ by _him, anyway._

There was so much she didn’t know, but she knew that she trusted him with her life. Yes, she was weaker than he knew, and not immune to the cultural terror of him, the archetype of the Devil, Evil Incarnate.

But that wasn’t who he was.  That wasn’t who she had come to know over the years. 

And it wasn’t who Linda and Ella knew.  She had to admit, Ella’s acceptance helped immensely, and then finding out that Linda, too, knew who he was and had continued to treat him, had even come to care for him as a friend -- well, it made her own acceptance not quite so crazy.

If anything, her denial had been her craziness. Deep inside, she had known, her subconscious clearly knew -- _love handles, ha!_ \-- and yet she had pretended everything was “normal.”  That he was just this eccentric, wounded man. 

_How much damage did I do, denying the truth about him all this time?_

He was watching her face so carefully, and his smile faded with hers.

“I don’t think you slept, my dear Detective. And… What’s this? What is that smidgen of guilt I see all about?”

“It’s nothing.” She shook her head, then realized she was doing what he did all the time. Evading. 

“Don’t deny it.” His prodding was softened by his smile. “You can’t hide guilt from _me._ ”

She scoffed. _Of course. He’s had eons of examining guilty humans._

“You’re right.  I just… I should have believed you. I know it hurt you, wondering if I would run from you if I knew. Because, deep down, I _did_ know, but I couldn’t… It’s like I’m letting go of who I was. This practical, no nonsense world view I had. If I couldn’t see it, it wasn’t real. It was so much a part of me.”

“Kind of like getting the big red X in the gong show of life, ay? Accompanied by the most annoying sound in the universe.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it felt like.”

“To your credit, your moral compass is impeccable, even without the threat of, well, you know, eternal damnation.”

She found herself doing her wide-eyed, “that’s a bit much,” face, usually reserved for his Devil talk comments back when she thought, no, wanted to believe it was just “Luciferness.” 

_That was only yesterday._

He picked up on it, and his tone went even softer, as he gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Even that, though, reminded her that only hours before he had carried a car through the skies of Los Angeles with that very hand.

 “Well, I’ll do my best to help you put your world back together right side up. We have a _lot_ to talk about.”

Needing a diversion from cosmic contemplation, she focused on something simple. Like that she loved the way he pronounced “talk.” That brought up another question. _Why in the world does the Devil have a British accent?_

“We do,” she agreed. She found she didn’t want to let go of his hand, and he didn’t seem to be making any moves toward that, either.  So she didn’t. “So, um, shower? Or what?”

He lifted his right wing again and stared at it, appraising, then brought his free hand up and deftly tugged a particularly disjointed feather back in place. The black blanket slipped down further to his hips as he stretched his arm up. She found herself trying to not gape at his perfect torso, no matter that his body was literally blazing with Hellfire. 

“Actually, I think a soak in the pool would be the ticket.”  He seemed completely unaware of his effect on her.

She saw concern in his eyes, even through the fire, when he turned his gaze back to her, with an almost imperceptible flicker to her chest, first. Not a bit of a leer, either. 

“So… clean bill of health from the hospital for you?”

With a nod, she murmured assent. “It’s all kind of a blur, but the x-ray was clear.  I think they did some blood tests, too. Just SOP.”

“Blood tests? For drugs?”

“Mhm. I shot ‘Lt. Pierce,’ after all. It’s good to be cleared of any suspicion of drug use.”

He nodded, but there was a slight crease between his brows. “Well. That’s good.” 

She could definitely see something going in the “later,” file, in his mind.  _The mind that contained memories from the beginning of Time itself._ With that thought, a sliver of doubt crept into her mind. _How can an ancient, eternal being like Lucifer care for a weak mortal like me? I’m an eyeblink to him._

“I kept that bikini I bought for you, from the case with that poor chap, the strangled surfer,” he said, interrupting her unwelcome train of thought. “You can wear that in the pool, if you like. After my debut last night, there could be drones zipping about. Though it would take some nerve, or at the very least deep pockets, to risk that after I announced my displeasure with that particular form of privacy invasion.”

“That’s true.  But Lucifer, I’m not wearing…” she started to object, but then thought better of it. It was that or going nude, or going home for her own suit. Skinny dipping was out of the question with Trixie around, despite her daughter’s surprising familiarity with Hot Tub High School. And besides, she wasn’t quite ready to be that free spirited with the Devil.

“Uh, thank you, that’s very thoughtful. Where…?”

He pointed to the nightstand, with a nod. She heard a soft click, a hidden lock released.

Expecting to have to prowl through a pile of sex toys to find the bikini jumbled in, she looked back at him and grimaced, jerking a thumb at the nightstand, which loomed with mischievous malevolence. 

“Really, Detective. Oh, ye of little faith. No secrets between us, now.”

She took a deep breath, finally releasing his hand, and rolled off the bed to kneel at the nightstand.  Grasping the ornate knob, she let her breath go with a sigh, steeling herself. _What would one find in the Devil’s nightstand?_

“OK, here goes.” The drawer slid easily, smoothly, though she pulled it open as if expecting something to jump out at her. What she saw could not have shocked her more.

_A mason jar. From the pepper juice chaser she had brought him for his birthday._

_A tiny translucent vial filled with beach sand. From the spot where she had first kissed him._

_A rolled up bag, somehow sanctified by the black and gold ribbon binding it. From their “burger and fries, no ketchup,” moment, the first dinner they had shared._

_A small crystal bowl with a handful of silver and gold confetti. From the prom night Lucifer had held for her, their first slow dance._

_A thin black ribbon. From the box that had held the bullet necklace he had given her for her birthday._

_A rose, its petals dried. From the disastrous dinner he had prepared for her the night Cain proposed._

_A sprig of dark pink flowers. From Forrest Clay’s balcony, only a couple of nights ago, when_ he _had kissed_ her _for the first time._

It was all carefully, artfully displayed, and yet hidden here for his eyes only.  And now, her eyes.

She stared, slack-jawed, at all of it, all of the proof of his feelings for her, traced back to the very beginning, and heat built behind her eyes, threatening to spill over.  His timing was perfect, as if he somehow knew her lingering insecurity, how tiny she felt. She was a fragile creature of meaningless moments next to him, an immortal of unknowable power.

And yet… This...

He tugged her gently back from her emotional edge. “Oh. No.” His voice was humorously dry. “I meant the bottom drawer.”

She turned back to him, blinking rapidly, and he winked. 

Her breath came out of her in a huff, and that shining that she felt, Divine touch, joy redefined, returned, only this time it came from looking into the Devil’s eyes. How he made his burning eyes so soft and loving, she couldn’t fathom, but he did.

“Lucifer…” 

He nodded toward the nightstand again. “Go ahead.”

She nodded, smiling tremulously at him, and closed the top drawer reverently.  As she reached for the second, he stretched his hand out toward her, and she paused.

“There is a box in there. You may open it now if you so desire, but you may wish to wait, leave it for a surprise or two, later. Either choice is fine with me.”

Nodding again, she bit her lip and pulled open the bottom drawer.  She saw the black box in the back, trimmed in gold, ancient and probably priceless on its own, and decided to leave him his surprises.

Looking at it, then back at him, she said, “I… I’ll trust your judgment. Whatever you have there, you can show me when you feel it’s the best time.” Dropping the serious mood, she chuckled. “I’ll try not to let it drive me crazy with curiosity.”

He smiled, nodding regally. True to his word, he showed not a hint of disappointment at her choice. 

She looked in the drawer again. In front of the black box was a classy boutique bag, and she recognized the neon yellow string that escaped from it.  Beside it was a key, on a fob emblazoned with the make of the car that Lucifer had bought her.

“This is the Devil’s Drawer of Ill-intended Gifts Unreceived,” he said with a smirk. “Oh, funny that. The acronym is DIGU. How appropriate.” 

She couldn’t help it.  She rolled her eyes, and he loved it, his devilish grin spreading across his face. 

“I do hope the black box will show better judgment on my part. Eventually.” 

His words gave her a pang of guilt, again, on her newly cleaned slate. “Oh, Lucifer, I’m sure your intentions were good.  And your judgment involved matters far beyond what I could understand, especially considering how bull-headed I was being.” She pulled the bag with the bikini from the drawer, and slid it closed again. “But yeah, I have a lot of questions I really want to know the answer to.”

She considered asking about the freak storm, but decided not to pounce on him about that.  _Best to wait until he’s at least feeling more in control of himself.  Maybe the pool will soothe … whatever that is… that’s going on with him. In the meantime, maybe Ella can call Dan and make sure he’s OK._

Instead, she reached over and patted his hand again, looking into his eyes intently, hoping he could see that there was nothing he could tell her that would drive her away, now. 

She was hyper-aware of his vulnerability with her, and not just physical.  Ella’s words came back to her, _Don’t you know how important you are to him?_ And though there had still been some doubt at the time, his little secret stash of mementos from their partnership had quieted her whispers of insecurity. For the moment. She was sure there would be times in the future when her fragile heart would lead her astray again, but for now, she was glowing.

All she really wanted was to show him she would be there for him, as he had been for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, I thought I'd seen other people link to original work, but apparently it's against the TOS. 
> 
> I would love to connect with all of you further, though, so I started a Tumblr account, which seems to be what the other writers that I really admire are doing. So, please, come talk with me on Tumblr! I'm Tavalah, there, too!
> 
> Credit and undying gratitude to [TonyW](/users/TonyW/) for his help with the British Devil's manner of speaking as well as his insightful input and to [Tesria](/users/Tesria/) and [OkamiShadou98](/users/OkamiShadou98/) for their wonderful feedback, also! So awesome to have such fantastic beta readers!  
>  
> 
>  


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